INEBRIETY.  DIPSOMANIA 

AND    THE 

OPIUM  HABIT 

If  Drunkenness  is  a  crime,  are  Inebriates  and  Dipsomaniacs  Criminals? 

If  Insane  persons  are  held  to  be  morally  and  legally  irresponsible,  are 
the  victims  of  the  Liquor  and  Morphine  Habits,  who  have  lost  both  mental  and 
nervous  control,  to  be  held  responsible  for  their  acts? 

Are  Inebriates,  Dipsomaniacs  and  Morphine  Habitudes,  "steeped  in  sin  and 
iniquity,"  or  are  they  suffering  from  disease,  which ,  if  continued,  ends  in  death  ? 

These  questions  are  viewed  by  jurists,  theologians,  moralists  and  physi- 
cians from  their  several  standpoints.  Happily,  however,  the  broadest-minded 
of  all  classes  hold  that  those  Habits  are  the  offspring  of  Nervous  Disease,  either 
inherited  or  brought  on  by  the  continued  use  of  stimulants  and  narcotics, 
frequently  prescribed  and  taken  to  ease  pain,  procure  sleep,  or  promote  health, 
and  more  frequently  used  as  a  token  of  friendship  and  sociability.  The 
broad-minded  view  is  fully  sustained  by  abundant  experience  in  practice. 

It  is  too  painfully  true  that  a  great  many  wealthy  and  cultured  people  of 
both  sexes,  from  no  fault  of  their  own,  have  beconre  slaves  to  the  Liquor  and 
Morphine  Habits.  This  terrible  "Skeleton  in  the  Closet"  is  often  the  only 
thing  that  mars  the  joys  of  many  otherwise  happy  families.  The  poor  victim 
desires  to  reform  but  cannot.  Good  resolutions  are  made  only  to  be  broken. 
Prayers  are  offered  and  aid  invoked  in  vain.  The  terrible  nervous  desire  over- 
comes all  opposing  forces  and  the  baneful  Habits  are  continued.  The  poor 
victims  are  literally  slaves  with  no  hope  of  release. 

To  meet  the  wants  of  the  people  suffering  from  these  Habits 

THE  PACIFIC  GOLD  CURE  CLINIC 

has  been  established  in  San  Francisco.  Its  methods  of  treatment  are  entirely 
painless,  harmless  and  beneficial  to  the  general  health.  Attention  is  given 
simply  and  solely  to  the  restoration  of  the  nervous  system.  In  less  than  a  week 
all  desire  for  stimulants  and  narcotics  is  gone  and  the  patients  give  them  up 
of  their  own  accord.  Within  a  month  the  Cure  is  Complete  and  Permanent. 

City  residents  may  be  treated  at  their  homes,  thereby  avoiding  the 
exposure  and  publicity  which  necessarily  attaches  to  a  Public  Institution. 

People  from  a  distance  can  be  provided  with  superior  accommodations 
commensurate  with  their  tastes  and  habits  of  life.  All  cases  confidential. 
Apply  to 

E.   J.    FRASER,    M.    D. 

Nan  Francisco,  Cal.  MKnic Ai,    DIRECTOR 


LADIES  ARE 


DAILY  HAVING  THEIR 


COMPLEXIONS  MADE  PERFECT 


BY    USING 
MRS.    NETTIK    HARRISON'S 


FACE  V7BLEACH 


Removes  Freckles,  Moth  Patches,  Pimples,  Blackheads,  Sunburn,  and 
Sallowness.  It  does  not  take  from  the  face  the  natural  rosy  color,  but 
BREACHES  out  all  BLEMISHES  LODGED  IN  THE  SKIN.  Freckles  and  other 
discolorations  are  dissolved  ;  blackheads,  fleshworms,  etc.,  are  brought  to  the 
surface,  when  they  dry  and  fall  off  with  the  old  cuticle,  which  flakes  off  like 
fine  dandruff  by  rubbing  the  face  gently  with  a  towel.  While  the  old  skin  is 
thus  being  disposed  of,  the  new  skin  underneath  is  forming  soft  and  smooth, 
pure  and  white  and  fine  in  texture.  The  complexion  is  then  as  perfect  as  it 
can  be  made,  and  nothing  remains  but  to  keep  it  so,  by  the  nightlv  use  of 
CUCUMBER  AND  ELDER  FLOWER  CREAM,  or  LOLA  MONTEZ  CREME. 
From  one  to  three  bottles  are  required  to  make  a  perfect  cure.  Perfectly 
harmless. 

LOLA    MONTEZ   CREHE 

This  wonderful  Creme  is  a  skin  cerate;  contains  only  such  proportions 
as  are  beneficial  in  effectually  obliterating  all  roughness  and  overcoming  the 
dryness  of  the  skin.  For  cleaning  the  skin,  protecting  it  from  sun  and  winds, 
and  keeping  it  soft,  smooth  and  velvety.  Price  75c.  Ladies  out  of  town  can 
use  my  remedies  at  home  with  perfect  success.  Send  4c  in  stamps  and  I'll 
send  you  my  instructive  book  on  the  complexion  FREE  with  price  list,  or  10c 
in  stamps  to  get  a  sample  of  my  new  Creme  and  Face  Powder  FREE. 

MRS.    NETTIE    HARRISON 

AMERICA'S   BEAUTY  DOCTOR 


26  Geary  Street 

Ivadies 


San  Francisco,  Cal. 


"Thou  hast  chimed  twice  for  Thuyer,  thrice  for  Alice,  now  toll 
one  for  the  dying."  —  The  .Witlnight  Hell. 


THE 

BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 


A  NOVEL 


ADA  L.  HALSTEAD 


AUTHOR  OF 
THE   SERPENT  BRACELET,"    "HAZEL  VERNE,"   ETC. 


"  Is  there  no  pity  sitting  in  the  clouds 
That  sees  into  the  bottom  of  my  grief  ? 
O  sweet  my  mother,  cast  me  not  away — 
Delay  this  marriage  for  a  month,  a  week; 
Or,  if  thou  wilt  not,  make  my  bridal  bed 
In  that  dim  monument  where  Tybalt  lies." 
JULIET 


COPYRIGHT  BY  AUTHOR  1892 
(All  rights  reserved) 


SAN  FRANCISCO 

THE  BANCROFT  COMPANY,  PUBLISHERS 
1892 


TO 

CLARA  BELLE  AND  WILBUR  E.  HAYES 

WITH  A  SISTER'S  MOST 

FAITHFUL  LOVE 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

1  THE  ALIEN 1 

2  A  WELCOME  GUEST 10 

3  IN  FRIENDSHIP'S  BOND 15 

4  LADY  CAMDEN 23 

5  A    MORNING  ENCOUNTER 34 

6  CAUGHT  IN  THE  STORM 41 

7  A  MODERN  HERCULES , 52 

8  THE  HIDDEN  HAND 60 

9  IN  PROSPECTIVE 69 

10  VALOIS'  SECRET 76 

11  THE  BUST  OF  "GLAUCUS" 84 

12  A  WATCHWORD * 94 

13  BEWARE  ! 100 

14  AT  FESTAL  TIDE 109 

15  THE  BREAKERS  THREATEN 116 

16  DEAD  SEA-FRUIT 130 

17  LOVE'S  BEHEST 136 


CHAPTER                                                                                                                    •      PAGE 
IS    THE  CLAP-TRAP 148 

19  THE  TALISMAN , 159 

20  BLANCHE 168 

21  THE  SPIDER  AND  THE  FLY 176 

22  A  SUBTERFUGE 187 

23  IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  SHADOW 196 

24  HER  STRATAGEM 201 

25  THE  PRISONER..... 20o 

26  A  REVELATION 214 

27  ENGAGED 225 

28  "THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE  " 237 

29  THE  DIAMOND  BRACELET 248 

30  THE  DENOUEMENT 262 

81    MIDNIGHT  MASS 283 

32    THE  MIDNIGHT  BELL '. 290 

S3    THE  GATE  AJAR 306 


THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 


CHAPTER  I 

THE   ALIEN 

THE  mid-October  afternoon  was  drawing  to  a 
close. 

The  atmosphere,  with  its  quivering  transpar- 
ency of  azure  haze,  was  redolent  of  the  subtile, 
honied  odor  of  late-blooming  meadow  flowers  ; 
and  that  languorous  hush  which  often  precedes 
the  dissolution  of  a  New  England  Indian  summer 
day  seemed  to  encompass  all  living  things. 

The  only  sounds  that  came  to  break  the  still 
ness  was  the  low,  monotonous  purling  of  a  little 
stream  that  found  its  way  through  the  pasture, 
and  a  confused  bird-symphony  issuing  from  the 
intricate  vistas  of  birch  and  maple-wood  which 
in  every  direction  showed  dazzling  conflagrations 
of  color,  deviating  from  richest  tints  of  vermilion 
to  saffron,  russet  and  gold. 

Gray  rocks  slept  beneath  softly  clinging  bur- 
dens of  ivy  and  reddening  brake  ;  group?  of  deer 
O) 


2  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICS 

posed  recumbent  on  the  new  leaf-fall  about  the 
shallow  ravines  ;  while  at  a  little  distance  down 
the  gently  undulating  strip  of  meadow-land  a  trio 
of  velvet  fawn  grazed  and  gambolled  at  their 
sweet  will. 

Close  along  the  western  horizon  there  lay  a 
shattered  golden  bar  over  which  the  sun's  red 
di«c  hung  for  a  moment  in  imperial  victory,  then 
disappeared.  Anon  a  radiant  flood  of  amaranth, 
rose  and  tawny  orange  spread  itself  over  the 
heavens  and  enclosed  the  even. 

"  How  glorious,  how  infinitely  sublime  ! "  The 
words  were  spoken  by  a  young  man  who  for  some 
moments  had  been  standing  with  his  head  uncov- 
ered, as  if  in  very  reverence  of  the  splendid  aerial 
pageant,  watching  the  colors  of  earth  and  sky 
blend  and  interchange  until  they  finally  became 
one  grand  ensemble  of  spectacular  enchantment 
before  his  rapturous  gaze.  He  was  of  splendid 
physique,  being  tall,  slender  and  broad-should- 
ered ;  and  his  face,  at  once  noble  and  handsome, 
was  lit  up  by  a  pair  of  blue-gray  eyes  whose  clear 
fathoms  harbored  the  soul  of  intellect  and  kind- 
ness ;  they  were  eyes  that  held  all  who  chanced 
to  encounter  them  rapt  by  their  wonderful  mag- 
netic beauty,  and  that  having  once  seen  one  could 
not  easily  forget. 

His  dark  brown  hair  was  tumbled  into  a  negli- 
gent mass  of  burnished  ringlets  above  a  brow 
upon  which  rested  the  stamp  of  truth  and  refine 


THE  A  LIES  3 

ment,  and  his  profile,  clearly  silhouetted  against 
the  radiantly  illumined  sky,  his  nostrils  dilated, 
and  his  lips  slightly  parted  to  inhale  the  delight- 
ful perfume  of  flowers  and  freshly  fallen  leave*, 
looked  like  that  of  some  Grecian  god. 

Across  his  left  shoulder  was  strapped  a  email 
portmanteau,  and  his  flushed  cheeks  and  quick 
respiration  bore  evidence  of  a  long  and  wearisome 
walk.  As  he  continued  to  dwell  silently  upon 
the  ever- changing  splendor  of  the  sky,  an  antler 
with  large,  swimming  eyes  approached  and  kissed, 
with  docile  mien,  the  tips  of  his  dust-covered 
gaiters. 

"Ah  !  you  superb  creature  !  "  ejaculated  the 
youth,  letting  his  hand  fall  caressingly  upon  the 
animal's  velvet  head  in  appreciation  of  his  volun- 
teered friendship.  "  You  are  a  jolly  fellow  to  bid 
me  such  an  affectionate  greeting  to  New  England. 
What !  would  you  turn  traitor  ?  "  this  as  the  deer 
retreated  a  few  steps  and  lowered  his  antlers  for 
a  seeming  hostile  attack.  But  at  the  gently  re- 
proachful words  he  again  drew  near  and  gazed 
up  into  the  stranger's  face  with  his  soft,  dark  orbs 
full  of  curious  wonder  and  approval. 

When  the  youth  at  length  resumed  his  way 
through  the  pastures,  all  the  triumphant  colors 
of  the  sky  had  declined  into  a  serene,  uniform 
opal,  and  the  shadows  of  twilight  were  being  si- 
lently drawn  over  coppice  of  birch  and  maple, 
obliterating  all  the  brilliance  of  their  vestures, 


4  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

while  noislessly  and  unawares  the  deer  had  dis- 
persed from  the  scene. 

Following  up  a  narrow  trail  he  passed  from 
tangled  copse  to  open  meadow,  breathing  in  a? 
he  went  the  faict  odor  of  wild  sweet  brier,  and 
mentally  commenting  that  the  shrub  diffused  its 
incenee  the  same  as  in  his  own  dear  England,  and 
that  the  stars  came  out  in  their  old  familiar  con- 
stellations in  the  darkening  vault  above,  which 
observations,  it  may  be  said,  engendered  within 
him  an  involuntary  sense  of  homesickness. 

Having  arrived  in  Boston  that  afternoon  he  had 
learned  that  his  relatives  wem  still  at  their  sum- 
mer villa  several  miles  out  of  Lynn ;  and  upon 
the  servant's  offer  to  telegraph  for  a  conveyance 
to  meet  him  at  the  station,  he  had  said  he  would 
much  prefer  to  walk  the  distance  by  way  of  exer- 
cise after  his  long  and  tiresome  sea  voyage ;  so 
had  immediately  set  out  for  "  Ivendene,"  the 
Elwood's  country  seat.  But  already  the  distance 
had  seemed  twice  that  of  his  impulsive  reckoning 
and  as  the  darkness  thickened  and  the  narrow 
path  he  was  following  grew  almost  imperceptible 
before  him,  he  regretted  that  he  had  not  taken  a 
conveyance  at  Lynn  as  the  servant  had  advised. 

In  the  azure  darkness  above  the  stars  fast  gath- 
ered, yet  the  stranger  trudged  eagerly  on,  now 
whistling,  softly  to  himself  to  dispel  the  brooding 
sense  of  homesickness,  now  silent  with  anxiety 
lest  he  had  missed  his  way. 


-  THE  ALIEN  O 

But  at  last  through  the  obscurity  ahead  he  dis- 
cried  a  faint  glimmer  of  lights,  and  this  he  hailed 
with  a  shout  which  bore  the  intonation  of  his 
great  relief. 

"Ivendene!" 

As  the  echo  of  his  voice  rebounded,  he  heard  a 
sound  over  head  like  that  made  by  the  flight  of 
some  ponderous  night  bird;  and  presently  there 
came  an  inquisitive  "too  woo?"  to  which  he 
responded  with  a  soft,  trilling  roulade,  sweet  as 
the  note  of  a  nightingale.  A  moment  later  he 
had  unbarred  the  heavy  outer  gates  and  entered 
the  premises  of  Ivendene. 

Up  the  terraced  court  he  bounded  with  light, 
buoyant  steps,  despite  his  fatigue,  and  as  he 
reached  the  top-most  landing,  he  stood  a  moment 
in  admiring  contemplation  of  the  gray  stone 
structure  whose  turreted  wings  and  broad  facades 
uprose  in  architectural  symmetry  from  the  semi- 
darkness. 

Here  and  there  amid  the  shrubberies  white 
statuettes  gleamed,  while  sphinxes  posed,  stoical 
sentries,  upon  either  side  of  the  wide,  granite 
steps  leading  up  to  the  vestibule. 

Here,  under  the  bright  rays  of  a  crystal  lantern, 
the  young  Englishman  stood  at  length,  but  ere 
he  rang  the  door-bell,  he  could  not  help  pausing 
briefly  to  glance  into  the  brightly  lit  drawing- 
room,  the  draperies  of  whose  windows  were  looped 
aside,  revealing  a  spacious  apartment  which,  in 


6  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

appointment,  partook  of  the  ancient  style  of  the 
orient; — whose  antique  cabinets,  delicately  inlaid 
with  pearl  and  malachite,  whose  onyx  lamps, 
suspended  from  the  ceiling  by  wrought  chains  of 
silver,  whose  low,  carved  chairs  and  divans 
might,  indeed,  have  once  belonged  to  some  prince 
of  the  sixteenth  century;  whose  statuettes  and 
paintings  breathed  the  divine  inspiration  of 
sculptors  and  artists,  whose  names  will  live  for- 
ever in  the  archives  of  classic  Italy  and  Greece. 

As  the  young  Englishman  admiringly  surveyed 
the  rich  interior  of  this  room,  suddenly  his 
bronzed  cheek  flushed,  while  into  his  dark  eyes 
there  leapt  a  light  of  unmistakable  rapture  as 
they  riveted  themselves  upon  the  face  of  a  young 
girl,  who  reclined  upon  a  low  divan  in  one  corner 
of  the  apartment  with  all  the  grace  of  a  Cleopatra. 

She  wore  a  gown  of  some  simple  white  fabric, 
which  clung  in  soft,  unstudied  folds  about  her 
slender  form,  bringing  out  in  clear  relief,  against 
a  background  of  crimson  draperies,  its  every 
graceful  outline. 

As  the  young  stranger  continued  to  regard  her 
with  suspended  breath,  she  turned  her  eyes  inad- 
vertently toward  the  very  window  through  which 
he  gazed,  and  he  named  them  "  Mirrors  of  a 
Chastened  Soul." 

Beneath  the  bright  lamp  light  they  flashed  out 
like  purest  sapphires,  and  reflected  in  their  clear 
depths  a  world  of  love  and  tenderness,  while 


THE  ALIEy  7 

something  else  which  seemed  like  a  shade  of 
sadness,  abided  there. 

Her  hair,  now  russet,  now  gold,  now  softest- 
mellowest  auburn,  just  as  the  lights  and  shadows 
touched  it,  crowned  a  brow  as  delicately  white  as 
alabaster,  while  her  features,  strikingly  like  those 
of  Titian's  "  Danae  "  in  their  fine,  patrician  caste, 
were  animated  by  a  glow  of  color  which  underlay 
the  damask  of  her  cheek  like  a  blush  rose,  but 
burst  in  richest  carmine  from  her  full,  half-parted 
lips. 

The  eyes  of  her  unseen  watcher  followed  her, 
when  presently,  as  if  impelled  by  some  sudden 
impulse,  the  young  girl  rose;  and,  crossing  the 
room,  seated  herself  at  the  open  piano.  She  let 
her  fingers  stray  deftly  over  the  keys  in  a  brief 
and  happy  prelude;  then  her  white  throat 
swelled,  and  her  voice  throbbed  out  full,  clear  and 
sweet  as  a  silver  bell,  to  search  the  gloaming  and 
to  vibrate  through  his  soul  until  it  seemed  to 
leap  from  its  dwelling  place  to  soar  deliriously  in 
the  bent  of  the  heavenly  strains: — 

"  My  heart,  my  heart  is  like  a  singing  bird, 

Whose  nest  is  in  a  watered  shoot. 
My  heart,  my  heart  is  like  an  apple  tree, 

Whose  boughs  are  bent  with  thick-set  fruit 
My  heart,  my  heart  is  like  a  rainbow  shell 

That  paddles  in  a  halcyon  sea. 
My  heart,  my  heart  is  gladder  than  all  these, 

Because  my  love,  my  love  has  come  to  me." 

What  had  prompted  Alice  Meredith  to  sing 
"My  Love  Is  Come"  on  that  of  all  nights  in  her 
lifetime? 


8  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

In  after  days  she  recalled  the  song  with  a 
thrill  of  ecstacy,  subsequently  she  remembered 
it  with  a  throb  of  anguish,  bitter,  unutterable. 

Had  she  been  so  far  removed  from  her  sur 
roundings  that  she  started  and  uttered  a  low  cry 
when,  just  as  she  ceased  singing,  the  door-bell 
rang  out  in  wild  alarm?  or  was  there  a  premoni- 
tion in  the  sound  that  made  her  turn  again  to  the 
instrument  and  with  her  beautiful  face,  recently 
so  happy,  now  pale  and  ineffably  sad,  move  her 
lips  to  these  doleful  words  of  presentiment: — 

"  Now  soul  be  very  still  and  go  apart, 

Fly  to  thy  inmost  citadel,  and  be  thon  still, 
Dost  thou  not  know  the  trembling,  sinking  heart 

That  feels  the  shadow  of  some  coming  ill? 
Ah!  HO;  'tis  not  delusion;  some  kind  care 
Touches  thee,  soul,  and  whispers  thee  'Beware.' " 

A  liveried  footman  opened  the  door  and  scowl- 
ingly  surveyed  the  belated  suppliant  thereat,  as 
if  to  say:  "Did  you  want  to  raise  the  dead,  that 
you  rang  so  loud  and  long?" 

"I — does — are  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Elwood  within?" 
questioned  the  young  stranger  with  visible  con- 
fusion. t 

"The  Colonel  hand  the  madam  har  within, 
sir.  Wat  name  shall  I  say?"  asked  the  man, 
with  a  broad  cockney  accent  that  caused  the 
Englishman  to  smile  involuntarily. 

"  Hand  your  master  this,"  he  said,  and  as  the 
servant  took  his  card  he  stepped  into  the  ante- 
chamber to  wait. 


THE  ALIEN  9 

• 

Promptly  the  footman  returned  to  say  that 
Colonel  Elwood  would  receive  his  visitor  in  the 
library  at  once. 

With  noble  upright  bearing  the  youth  followed 
toward  the  apartment  named,  and  directly  he 
found  himself  in  the  presence  of  his  aristocratic 
American  kinsman,  who  stood  in  the  centre  of 
the  room  smoothing  his  iron-gray  beard  with 
fingers  that  trembled  slightly  as  his  etrange 
young  guest  crossed  the  threshold  and  slowly, 
deferentially  approached  him.  "Colonel  El- 
wood,"  he  said,  bowing  low  as  he  spoke,  "I  claim 
the  honor  of  introducing  myself  to  you  :  I  am 
Thayer,  son  of  Sir  Douglas  Volney,  England." 


CHAPTER  II. 

A   WELCOME   QUEST. 

pOLONEL  ELWOOD  stood  for  a  moment  with 
w  his  keen,  black  eyes  fixed  studiously  upon 
the  handsome  face  before  him.  Then  he  gravely 
reiterated  : 

"  Thayer,  son  of  Sir  Douglas  Volney,  England." 
Another  brief  pause,  and  he  exclaimed  : 

"  This  is  extraordinary,  young  man — extraor- 
dinary !" 

At  his  words  a  swift  flood  of  color  surmounted 
the  young  Englishman's  face. 

"Oh,  I  perceive,  I  understand  !"  he  spoke  pres- 
ently, and  passed  his  fingers  through  his  tumbled 
locks  as  the  truth  of  the  situation  instinctively 
dawned  upon  him.  "  My  father's  letter  has 
failed  to  reach  you — you  were  not  prepared  for 
my  advent  ?" 

"  We  have  received  no  message  from  Sir  Doug- 
las," was  the  grave  and  laconic  rejoinder. 

"  Well,"  continued  Thayer,  and  now  his  embar- 
rassment gave  place  to  an  expression  of  palpable 
amusement,  "in  that  case,  uncle  Howard,  I  can- 
not wonder  at  your  inclination  to  regard  me  with 
mistrust.  One  has  to  guard  carefully  against 
(10) 


A  WELCOME  GUEST  H 

impostors  now-a-days,  as  there  is  a  vast  amount 
of  fraud  practised.  However,  I  have  testimoni- 
als, which  I  trust " 

"  Bosh  I"  Colonel  Elwood  interrupted  him  sud- 
denly, and  now  there  was  a  warm  clasp  of  hands, 
"  who  said  anything  about  impostors  or  testimo- 
nials ?  Why,  bless  your  soul,  young  Briton,  your 
face  bears  the  very  stamp  of  honor,  sir  !  I  want 
no  better  testimonial,  and  I  never  thought  for  a 
moment  of  mistrusting  you.  I  welcome  you  to 
America  and  to  Ivendene." 

There  was  a  suspicious  moisture  in  his  eyes  as 
the  colonel  waived  his  hand  toward  a  chair  in  a 
silent  invitation  for  his  guest  to  be  seated.  He 
drew  another  chair  near  for  himself,  and  after 
sitting  a 'moment  with  hands  interlocked  behind 
his  head,  and  his  features  ctill  working  with  sup- 
pressed emotion,  he  asked  :  "  How  did  you  find 
us  !  Did  you  call  at  the  town  house  ?  You  should 
have  sent  a  message  upon  your  arrival,  and  we 
would  have  met  you  at  Lynn;  but  of  course  you 
found  a  conveyance  ?"  he  ended  interrogatively. 

"No,"  returned  his  nephew,  "  I  walked  from  the 
station.  Your  house  servant  in  Boston  would 
have  telegiaphed,  but  I  preferred  walking  after 
being  cramped  up  so  long  on  ship-board.  I 
found  your  copses  and  meadow-lands  well  worth 
my  exertion." 

"You  are  ambitious,"  observed  the  colonel 
complaisantly,  "but  after  such  a  wearisome  voy- 


12  THE  BRIDE  OF  1NFEL1CE 

age  you  should  not  have  undertaken  a'seven-mile 
tramp.  There  would  have  been  ample  time  for 
copses  and  meadow  lands  after  recruiting  your- 
self. There's  the  dinner  bell !"  he  broke  off  sud- 
denly, "and  you  have  yet  to  be  introduced  to 
your  aunt  and  cousin  Valois.  What  a  delightful 
surprise  this  will  be  for  Rene  !  You  bear  a  strik- 
ing likeness,  by  the  way,  to  your  aunt.  She  had 
the  same  classic  contour  of  features  when  I  mar- 
ried her,  which,  my  boy,  is  well  nigh  on  to  twen- 
ty-two years  ago : — yes,  it  is  nearly  twenty-two 
years  now  since  your  grandfather,  Sir  Richard 
Volney,  came  over  to  America  with  his  beautiful 
young  daughter.  He  little  dreamed  he  would  be 
compelled  to  return  to  his  native  soil  without  her. 
Poor  old  Sir  Richard  !  It  was  a  hard  blow  for 
him  to  give  her  up.  I  remember  the  forlorn  pic- 
ture he  presented  on  the  morning  he  sailed,  as  he 
stood  on  deck,  with  his  red  silk  handkerchief 
waving  in  the  breeze,  and  big  tears,  which  he 
could  not  check,  rolling  down  his  cheeks,  as  he 
cried  out  to  her  in  a  last  farewell — but  there,  I 
am  digressing  !  Stay  here,  Thayer,  while  I  bring 
your  aunt  Rene  and  Valois." 

And  with  this  the  excited  colonel  hastily  pre- 
cipitated himself  from  the  room. 

Left  alone  Thayer  Volney  sat  encompassed 
with  the  happy  expectation  of  meeting  the  an- 
gelic creature  he  had  viewed  through  the  drawing 
room  window. 


A  WELCOME  GUEST  13 

"Certainly,"  he  told  himself,  u  that  could  have 
been  none  other  than  my  cousin  Valois." 

With  a  strange  agitation  he  glanced  round  upon 
the  magnificent  appointments  of  the  room. 

There  were  tiers  of  book-shelves  towering  al- 
most to  the  ceiling  and  filled  with  handsomely 
bound  volumes.  There  were  Parian  busts  of  Vir- 
gil, Homer,  Milton,  Shakespeare,  Tennyson  and 
Longfellow,  all  mounted  upon  costly  pedestals  ; 
upon  a  little  opal  stand  there  rested  a  statuette 
of  the  "  Dead  Pearl  Diver,"  after  the  celebrated 
sculptor,  B.  Paul  Akers,  while  upon  another  was 
presented  a  remarkable  bust  in  ebony  by  a  gifted 
American  artist.  There  were  paintings — master- 
ful creations — whose  exquisite  harmony  of  color- 
ing he  would  have  studied  at  any  other  time  with 
the  keenest  of  delight.  But  he  turned  from  them 
now  after  a  casual  glance,  letting  his  eyes  wander 
to  a  fierce-looking  bronze  warrior  who  stood  in 
full  armor  just  within  the  deep  embrasure  of  a 
window  between  the  heavy  parted  portieres.  Then 
his  glance  strayed  above  the  silken  hangings  to  a 
silhouette  of  his  great-grandfather,  Sir  Leopold 
Volcey,  who  had  died  chivalrously  fighting  for 
his  country  at  Sebastopol. 

Upon  this  picture  his  gaze  riveted  itself  as, 
with  bated  breath,  he  listened  for  footsteps. 

They  sounded  at  length  along  the  tessellated 
floor  just  outside  the  library,  and  above  them  he 
heard  a  mingling  of  glad,  excited  voices.  The 


14  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

next  moment  the  door  opened  and  Colonel  Elwood 
re-entered  the  room  accompanied  by  his  wife  and 
lovely  daughter. 

Thayer  rose  and  advanced  toward  the  ladies, 
little  able  to  repress  the  keen  sense  of  disappoint- 
ment he  felt  as  his  eyes  met  those  of  his  cousin, 
which,  alas,  were  not  those  "  mirrors  of  a  chas- 
tened soul  "  he  had  been  so  joyously  anticipating. 
Valois  Elwood's  beauty  was  like  a  summer's 
gloaming  lit  with  stars  ;  while  that  of  the  un- 
known one  was  like  a  golden  harvest  dawn-glow. 


CHAPTER  III 

IN  FRIENDSHIP'S  BOND 


As  high  as  we  have  mounted  in  delight 
In  our  dejection  do  we  sink  so  low.'1 

—  Wordsworth 


un^HAYER  !  my  brother's  son  !  "  cried  Mrs. 
1  Elwood  as  she  advanced  toward  her 
nephew  with  outstretched  arms  ;  and  there  were 
happy  tears  in  her  eyes  as  she  kissed  the  young 
Englishman  upon  both  cheeks,  which  caresses 
Thayer  warmly  returned. 

After  that  lingering  embrace,  with  a  soft,  moth- 
erly hand  Mrs.  .Elwood  brushed  back  the  cluster- 
ing curls  from  the  youth's  noble  brow,  and  putting 
him  from  her  at  arm's  distance,  stood  for  some 
moments  in  silent  contemplation  of  his  magnifi- 
cent type  of  manhood. 

"  My  beloved  Douglas'  own  son  !  "  she  spoke 
at  length,  and  her  words  still  bore  an  intonation 
of  incredulity.  "  I  canjcarcely  realize,"  she  con- 
tinued, "that  you  are  the  same  Thayer  whom  I 
left  at  Volney  Wold  nearly  twenty-two  years  ago. 
You  were  then  shaking  a  rattle  over  the  ramparts 
of  your  cradle." 

At  this  mAnent  a  fairy  figure  glided  up  to  the 
side  of  the  young  Englishman. 
(15) 


16  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

It  was  Valois  who,  having  waited  so  long  for 
an  introduction,  had  concluded  to  waive  the  for- 
mality, and  now  extended  a  little  dimpled,  white 
hand,  saying : 

"  I  am  Valois,  Cousin  Thayer.  We  have  known 
each  other  from  childhood,  you  know,  through 
correspondence." 

He  repeated  her  quaint  name  as  he  pressed  the 
dainty  tips  of  her  fingers  to  his  lips.  Then  he 
detained  the  member  in  a  gentle  clasp  as  the  girl, 
still  looking  into  his  face,  observed,  her  face  suf- 
fused in  dimples  : 

"My  aunt,  Lady  Marguerite,  promised  me, 
when  I  was  a  very  little  girl,  that  you  should 
come  to  A  merica  when  you  were  twenty-three.  I 
have  counted  the  years  since  then.  You  were 
twenty-three  last  August,  were  n't  you  ?  " 

Thayer  assented,  smiling  at  her  charming 
piquancy  and  the  little  lisp  accompanying  her 
accent. 

"  I  am  sure,"  went  on  the  young  girl,  "  that 
we'll  be  great  friends.  Ivendene  has  been  a  trifle 
dull  to  me  at  times  without  a  companion.  It 
will  be  different  now  with  you  here.  I  know  you 
are  jolly  by  your  letters  ;  they  always  amuse  me 
they  are  so  droll,  and  I  love  to  read  them  over 
again  and  again." 

Thayer  made  her  some  laughing  rejoinder,  then 
he  was  peremptorily  hurried  away  by  his  aunt  to 
prepare  for  dinner,  and  Valois  went  back  to  the 


IN  FRIENDSHIP'S  BOND  17 

drawing-room,  which  apartment  Mrs.  Elwood 
entered  a  few  moments  later,  just  in  time  to  hear 
her  daughter  giving  Alice  Meredith  and  her 
mother,  a  delicate-faced  and  refined  little  lady  in 
black  silk,  a  description  of  her  English  cousin, 
just  arrived. 

"  Is  he  really  so  handsome  as  you  have  pictured 
him  ?  "  asked  Alice,  half  incredulously. 

"  Handsome  !  "  cried  Valois,  with  elaborate  en- 
thusiasm, "  he  is  like  that  bust  of  the  Athenian 
Glaucus  which  Lady  Camden  has  in  her  drawing- 
room.  You  remember,  she  brought  it  from  Italy. 
His  hair  is  dark  brown  and  curly  ;  his  eyes — ah, 
Allie,  such  eyes  !  —  a  deep,  lustrous  gray,  that 
seem  to  smile  and  talk  as  they  look  at  you.  Then 
he  is  tall  and  slender,  and  carries  himself  much 
like  Lieutenant  Carruthers  of  the  navy.  On  the 
whole,  he  is  divine,  and  you  will  fall  in  love  with 
him  the  moment  you  see- him." 

"Valois." 

"  Oh,  really  !  I  am—"  At  'that  moment  the 
door  opened  to  admit  Colonel  Elwood  and  his 
nephew.  Introductions  followed,  and  for  a  mo- 
ment Alice  Meredith  met  those  "  deep,  lustrous, 
gray  eyes  that  seemed  to  smile  and  talk "  as 
they  looked  at  her. 

Thayer  Volney  dwelt  upon  her  name  as  if  he 
felt  an  insatiable  charm  in  its  utterance  which 
he  surely  did  ;  for  was  not  this  the  enchantress 


18  THE  BRIDE  OF  1XFELICE 

who  had  sung  those  words  :  "  My  Love  is  Come  ?  " 
Ah,  surely,  surely  !  * 

"  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  my  modern  Glau- 
cus  ? "  asked  Valois,  after  dinner,  as  the  two 
young  girls  were  sauntering  in  the  moonlit  garden 
while  the  gentlemen  smoked  their  cigars  in  the 
library. 

"Mr.  Volney  is  undeniably  handsome  and 
bears  himself  with  a  superior  elegance  that  must 
win  him  the  favor  of  all  who  know  him,"  re- 
turned Miss  Meredith  earnestly. 

Yet  Valois  thought  she  perceived  a  tremor  of 
constraint  in  her  friend's  voice,  and  she  peered 
furtively  in  her  face  as  they  passed  out  of  the 
shadows  of  a  hemlock  tree,  but  seeing  nothing 
there  save  a  pallor  which  she  attributed  to  the 
moonlight,  she  went  on  with  her  lisping  prattle. 

"  He  comes  of  a  race  whose  lineage  is  remote 
and  noble  as  any  in  Gre"at  Britain.  Sir  Douglas 
Volney  has  three  fine  estates  in  different  parts  of 
England  of  which  Volney  Wold,  situated  some- 
where in  the  Valley  of  the  Thames,  is  said  to  be 
the  finest.  Thayer  is  sole  heir-prospective  to  all 
these,  and  will  succeed  to  the  baronetcy.  Oh, 
Allie  !  "  the  girl  ended  seriously,  "  wouldn't  it  be 
just  too  delightful  if  you  two  were  to  fall  in  love 
with  one  another  !  What  a  charming  Lady  Vol- 
ney you  would  make  !  We  have  the  portraits  of 
all  the  ladies  of  Volney  House,  and  I  am  certain 


IK  FRIENDSHIP'S  BOND  19 

there  is  none  among  them  more  gentle  and  dis- 
tinguished-looking than  you." 

"  HusB  !  Oh,  Valois,  dear,  you  were  always 
such  an  unconscionable  dreamer  !  "  said  her  friend 
with  gentle  reproof  in  her  words. 

"Well,"  went  on  the  other  in  the  same  naive, 
lisping  manner,  yet  in  a  serious  tone, 

"  '  Tis  not  impossible  he 

Shall  command  thy  heart  and  thee.'  " 

before  he  has  been  here  a  week.  I've  heard  of 
stranger  things  happening — often  !  " 

"  It  is  growing  chilly.  Let  us  return  within," 
said  Alice,  and  again  Valois  noticed  that  intona- 
tion of  sad  constraint  in  her  voice,  and  saw  her 
shiver  as  she  drew  her  light  mantle  closer  about 
her  shoulders. 

"  First  come  with  me  to  the  conservatory," 
urged  she,  "  I  want  to  get  a  spray  of  those  pink 
orchids  for  my  belt ;  they  .are  so  delicately  sweet." 

So  they  turned  at  once  into  the  narrow  path 
leading  to  the  hot-house,  and  soon  Valois  was 
bending  over  her  coveted  blossoms  intent  on  se- 
lecting by  the  dim  light  a  perfect  cluster. 

Meanwhile,  stood  her  companion  with  her  eyes 
full  of  mournful  pathos  fixed  upon  a  white  olean- 
der tree  near  by.  Her  attitude  was  one  of  deep 
abstraction  and  expressed  something  of  despair 
as  well. 

About  her  sweet  sensitive  lips  there  had  settled 
a  shade  of  seriousness  strange  to  them,  while  her 


20  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

cheeks  were  pale  as  the  waxen  flower  upon  which 
she  gazed.  She  turned  with  a  start  as  Valois 
touched  her  gently  upon  the  arm  and  said  : 

"  Come,  aren't  you  going  to  pick  some  flowers 
for  yourself,  Allie  ?  " 

"No,  not  to-night,  love;  we  must  not  enter 
into  rivalry  to-night.  I  shall  leave  you  sole  light 
of  the  harem,  sweet  Valois." 

"  Ah,  if  I  did  not  know  you  so  well  I  should 
want  to  rebuke  you  for  being  satyrical,"  laughed 
Valois,  as  she  drew  her  friend's  arm  lovingly 
within  her  own. 

As  they  turned  to  quit  the  close  fragrance-laden 
cloister,  she  heard  the  tremulous  sigh  which 
Alice  strove  vainly  to  suppress. 

"  I  do  not  think  you  are  quite  well  to-night, 
love,"  she  said,  anxiously.  "  Surely,  you  are  not 
grieving  over  your — over  that — over  your  father's 
— oh,  Allie  !  you  know  what  I  mean,"  she  ended, 
desperately. 

"  I  have  been  too  happy  at  Ivendene,  my  dear, 
kind  friend,  to  reflect  much  upon  our  present 
affliction,"  returned  Miss  Meredith,  quietly,  "  do 
not  be  concerned  about  me,"  she  continued,  "  I 
have  only  a  slight  headache  which  will  wear 
away  after  awhile." 

Her  words  were  reassuring,  and  they  hastened 
at  once  to  the  drawing-room,  where  the  rest  of 
the  household  were  assembled. 

They  made  an  attractive  pair,  these  two  rose- 


IN  FRIENDSHIP'S  BOND  21 

bud  girls,  neither  of  whom  had  seen  eighteen 
summers. 

Valois'  face,  with  its  dark,  piquant  beauty, 
made  a  striking  contrast  to  that  of  the  Titianesque 
Alice,  with  her  changeful  golden  hair  and  sap- 
phire eyes.  Thayer  Volney  had  likened  them 
unto  the  gloaming  lit  with  stars,  and  the  golden 
glow  of  a  harvest  dawn.  He  could  not  have 
•  chosen  a  more  fitting  comparison  and  contrast. 

Valois'  black  eyes  scintillated  with  mirth  and 
vivaciousness,  while  they  reflected  the  soul  of 
love  and  truth  and  kindness. 

She  had  the  Elwood  profile;  her  cheek  bones 
were  a  trifle  high  for  beauty,  her  nose  was  of  the 
Roman  type,  and  chin  saucily  protruding;  but 
her  mouth  was  her  most  captivating  feature,  and 
when  she  smiled,  bringing  a  score  of  dimples  into 
play,  her  face  was  like  a  bit  of  rare  sunshine. 

She  sat  talking  with  her  cousin  Thayer  that 
night,  while  Alice  Meredith  played  one  of  those 
sonatas  from  Beethpven,  which  is  full  of  the  sub- 
limity, terror,  pity  and  tenderness  of  that 
composer. 

"  She  plays  extremely  well,  and  with  great 
depth  of  feeling,"  observed  Thayer  Volney,  as 
with  breathless  fascination  he  watched  the  ever- 
changeful  expression  on  the  beautiful  face  of  the 
performer. 

"Yes,"  answered  Valois  proudly,  "as  some 
admirer  has 'written  in  her  album  after  John 


22  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICS 

Keats,  I  believe,  her  fingers  '  are  music's  golden 
tongue.' " 

"  Admirers  !  "  Thayer  repeated  the  word  in- 
voluntarily and  with  a  swift  inward  pang;  but 
directly  the  shadow  left  his  face,  and  he  went  on 
to  say  to  himself,  rather  than  to  his  cousin,  that 
at  the  shrine  of  such  beauty  and  talent  as  Alice 
Meredith  possessed,  many  idolaters  must  fall. 

He  roused  himself  presently  to  hear  Valois 
saying  that  Alice  had  composed  a  number  of 
pieces  which  she  would  some  day  publish. 

"  And  what  do  you  think,  cousin  Thayer,  she 
is  going  to  dedicate  the  volume  to  me.  We  have 
known  each  other  from  childhood,"  went  on 
Valois,  "we  graduated  together  last  June,  and  we 
love  each  other  as  girls  seldom  love.  I  hope  you, 
too,  will  love  my  friend." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

LADY    CAMDEN. 

Ah,  well  that  pale  woman  a  phantom  might  seem 
Who  appeared  to  herself  but  the  dream  of  a  dream. 
Neath  those  features  so  calm,  that  forehead  so  hushed. 
That  pale  cheek  forever  by  passion  unflushed, 
There  yawned  an  insatiate  void,  and  there  heaved 
A  tumult  of  restless  regrets  unrelieved. 

— Oven  Meredith. 

A  T  the  time  of  my  narrative  there  stood  upon  the 
ii  banks  of  the  Merrimac  river,  several  miles 
remote  from  a  beautiful  suburban  town  in  Massa- 
chusetts, a  castellated  gray  stone  structure,  which, 
with  its  several  wings,  its  quoined  turrets,  its 
Gothic  arches  and  columns,  its  vine-mantled  walls 
and  casements  bore  the  appellation  of  "  Maple- 
hurst." 

The  owner  of  this  magnificent  country  estate 
was  an  Englishman  of  unknown  lineage,  Sir 
Philip  Camden,  who  upon  his  marriage  to  one  of 
Boston's  reigning  society  belles,  established 
Maplehurst  as  a  rendezvous  for  the  select  "four 
hundred  "  of  his  and  Lady  Camden's  world. 

Hortense  Ayer's  alliance  with  Sir  Philip  Cam- 
den  had  been  the  outcome  of  that  paternal 
ambition  which  almost  inevitably  leads  to  a 
dreaded  denouement. 

(23) 


24  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELTCE 

.  Instinctively,  even  in  her  youth  and  inexperi- 
ence Hortense  realized  the  unhappy  future  that 
awaited* her  without  love — without  hope  of  love, 
to  exalt  and  brighten  it;  and  it  was  with  bitter 
rebellion  in  her  heart  that  she  had  cried  out  in  a 
last  appeal  to  Mrs.  Avers,  as  that  aspiring  lady 
was  adjusting  over  her  face  the  bridal  veil  with 
its  coronet  offleurs  d'  orangec. 

"  Mother,  mother !  I  had  rather  you  were 
arraying  me  for  my  burial !  Oh,  let  me  not  give 
my  hand  in  such  a  holy  bond  as  this,  when  my 
soul  is  eternally  crying  out  against  it !  You  would 
not  sacrifice  my  happiness  on  the  altar  of  ambi- 
tion 1" 

And  she  had  looked  through  the  delicate 
frosty  meshes  of  lace,  with  her  lovely  face  pale  as 
death;  its  every  feature  quivering,  and  her  soft, 
brown  eyes  dim  with  a  mist  of  reproachful  tears. 

The  sight  of  her  daughter's  emotion  did  not, 
however,  appeal  to  that  implacable  mother- heart. 

Mrs.  Ayers  smiled  derisively  and  repeated  her 
favorite  platitude. 

"  Love,  my  dear  child,  is  certain  to  follow  after 
marriage.  It  is  the  natural  logic  of  the  situation  ! 
Think  of  the  titled  position  yours  wiil  be  as  Lady 
Camden.  You  will  lead  a  little  world  !  Let  this 
thought  bring  a  tinge  of  color  to  your  cheek.  You 
are  too  pale — by  far  too  pale,  my  love,  for  a  bride 
— the  most  distinguished  bride  of  the  season  !" 

"  But,  mother,  I  always  feel  instinctively  when 


LADY  C A  if  DEN  25 

looking  at  Sir  Philip,  that  behind  his  cool,  suave 
exterior  there  is  another — an  evil  man.  I  have 
tried  to  overcome  the  feeling,  but  cannot  by  any 
effort!" 

"That  feeling,"  repeated  Mrs.  Ayers,  lifting 
her  hand  with  a  gesture  of  keen  impatience, 
"  entertwines  itself  with  this  very  simple  fact. 
You  are  ungrateful.  You  do  not  respect  your 
filial  obligation  toward  a  parent  who  has  sacri- 
ficed everything  for  your  future  welfare  !"  At 
these  words  the  hot  tears  dried  instantly  in  Hor- 
tense's  eyes.  She  pressed  her  lips  upon  her 
mother's  flushed-cheek. 

"  I  recognize  my  duty,"  she  whispered,  "I  will 
fulfil  it."  Then  she  had  floated,  in  all  her  bridal 
splendor  down  to  where  Sir  Philip  awaited  her. 
She  did  not  pause  once  to  cast  a  backward  glance 
toward  the  horizon  where  she  knew  the  sun  of 
happiness  was  sinking  on  her  life  forever  :  but 
hushing  her  heart  and  accusing  conscience 
against  their  never-ceasing  cries,  "  I  do  not  love 
him  !  I  can  never  love  him  !"  she  took  the  word 
of  the  Gospel  in  her  hand,  and  promised  to  "love 
honor  and  obey  until  death."  And  thus  her  vow 
was  registered  in  heaven  to  serve  to-morrow,  and 
to-morrow,  and  forever ! 

Sir  Philip  Camden  was  proud  of  his  lovely 
young  bride — proud  of  her  in  much  the  same  way 
that  he  was  proud  of  the  costly  statuettes  that 
graced  his  drawing  rooms,  and  the  splendid  for- 


28  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFEL1CE 

tune  she  had  brought  him.  Few  who  knew  him 
surmised  the  narrow  and  selfish  nature  that  lay 
hidden  beneath  the  complaisant  exterior  of  this 
man  :  few  guessed  how  insidious  and  full  of  secret 
cunning  were  his  courtesies. 

Fashion  patronized  and  believed  in  him  as  a 
man  of  title  and  undisputed  wealth.  By  skillful 
intrigue  and  sophistry  he  had  achieved  a  foremost 
position  in  Boston's  fashionable  and  political  cir- 
cles. At  club  dinners,  before  his  marriage,  he 
had  entertained  the  wealth  and  affluence  of  the 
city.  At  the  ball  and  opera  he  had  been  the 
coveted  of  scores  of  mothers  with  eligible  daugh- 
ters. And  many  and  bitter  were  the  contretemps 
among  the  latter  upon  his  marriage  with  the 
lovely  heiress  and  reigning  belle  of  the  season, 
Hortense  Ayers. 

Sir  Philip  was  a  man  of  medium  height,  but 
rather  corpulent.  His  hair  was  of  a  dull  red 
color,  so  was  the  somewhat  spare  mustache  that 
drooped  over  his  mouth,  only  partly  concealing 
an  ugly  dark  scar  on  the  upper  lip,  which  gave 
to  his  face  a  hard,  sinister  expression  ;  his  black 
eyes  were  long,  narrow,  and  lustrous,  with  a  light 
that  might  have  been  bom  of  craftiness  or  ambi- 
tion; a  forehead  low,  and  protruding  over  heavy 
eyebrows,  which  met  above  an  aquiline  nose ;  a 
swarthy  complexion,  and  a  short,  fat  neck,  upon 
which  hia  head  moved  almost  incessantly,  like 


LADY  CAXDEN  27 

that  of  a  lizard,  finishes  a  sketch  of  one  who  is  to 
figure  prominently  in  this  drama. 

It  was  early  in  March  when  Sir  Philip  and 
Lady  Hortense  Camden  returned  from  their 
honeymoon,  which  had  been  spent  abroad.  The 
country  was  still  barren  and  disconsolate  look- 
ing, with  the  late  winter  snows  but  half  thawed 
upon  the  ground,  and  birch  and  maple  trees 
standing  up  in  skeleton  array  against  the  cold 
blue  sky. 

There  was  little  enough  indeed  in  the  sodden 
prospect  to  inspire  or  cheer  the  heart  of  Lady 
Hortense,  as  she  leaned  from  her  deep  window 
casement  upon  the  evening  of  their  arrival  at 
Maplehurst. 

At  her  right  a  forest  of  birch  and  scrub  ma- 
ple stretched  in  continuous  dreary  monotony, 
their  slender  limbs  just  beginning  to  hint  vaguely 
of  returning  foliage ;  while  at  her  left  hand 
rushed  the  dark  torrent-waters  of  the  Merrimac 
after  a  season  of  icy  bondage,  their  loud  roar 
making  a  fit  accompaniment  to  the  ceaseless  res. 
tive  sobbing  of  her  heart — "  I  do  not  love  him  I 
I  can  never  love  him  !" 

Upon  this  wide,  turbulent  expanse  gazed  Sir 
Philip  Camden's  young  wife  in  a  sort  of  fasciaa- 
tion,  as  she  repeated,  unconsciously  aloud,  a  line 
she  had  somewhere  read  : 

"  Blood-dyed  waters  murmuring  far  b«low." 


28  THE  BRIDE  OF  I  f>  FELICE 

The  sun  went  down,  and  the  chill  of  twilight 
fell  upon  her  silent  and  unpitying,  where  she  sat, 
forgetful,  in  her  loneliness  and  isolation,  of  all 
things  save  the  river  and  those  words,  which 
seemed  to  bring  with  them  a  prescience  of  coming 
doom  : 

"  Blood-dyed  waters  murmuring  far  below." 

The  silent  gray  had  deepened  into  the  shadows 
of  night,  when  Sir  Philip  entered  her  apartments, 
and  brought  more  vividly  back  her  life's  misery 
by  the  kisses  which  had  already  become  intoler- 
able to  her,  and  to  which  her  cold  lips  never  res- 
ponded. 

Spring  passed,  and  the  first  summer  of  her 
wedded  life  dawned — dawned  in  gladness  to  all 
.living  things,  it  seemed,  save  Lady  Hortense. 

Only  a  little  time  since  she  had  been  so  happy 
in  eweet,  untrammeled  girlhood.  Then  she  had 
been  grateful  for  the  slightest  gift  that  Nature 
bestowed,  and  even  the  yellow  daffodils  in  her 
old  home  garden  border,  and  the  flashing  gold- 
fish in  the  fountain  basin  had  filled  her  with 
gladness  ;  whereas  now,  the  brightest  and  choic- 
est flower  failed  to  charm  her,  and  she  visited 
her  own  little  aquarium  one  moment  only  to  tire 
of  it  the  next,  reflecting,  as  she  left  the  grotto, 
that  she  would  add  some  new  species  of  fish  to 
the  water — something  that  she  had  never  had 
before. 


LADY  CAJtQEN  29 

"  You  are  pale,  my  dear,  I  trust  you  are  well  ?  '» 
Sir  Philip  was  accustomed  to  observe  when  he 
chanced  to  be  spending  an  evening  alone  with 
his  wife,  which  was  seldom,  as  social  and  polit- 
ical matters  pressed  close  upon  his  time. 

"  I  am  quite  well,  Sir  Philip,"  Lady  Camden 
would  invariably  rejoin.  But  one  evening  it  came 
to  pass  that,  noting  the  deep  sigh  that  followed 
her  reply,  Sir  Philip  supplemented  his  question 
with  another  which  was  so  abruptly  put  that  it 
caused  her  to  start  as  with  a  sudden  acute  pain. 

"  Why  do  you  sigh  so  habitually  then  ?  You 
say  you  are  well ;  and  are  you  not  happy  as  Lady 
Camden  ?  " 

His  long,  narrow  eyes  sought  and  fixed  them- 
selves steadily  upon  the  beautiful  half-averted 
face  as  he  spoke,  and  they  were  doubly  brilliant 
as  he  awaited  a  response. 

Full  a  moment  passed,  and  Lady  Camden's 
lips  were  mute  as  chiselled  stone.  He  saw  a 
ghastly  pallor  creep  over  them  as  he  repeated, 
calmly,  yet  with  a  deep  flush  upon  his  face  which 
belied  his  voice  :  "I  asked,  Hortense,  if  you  were 
quite  happy  as  Lady  Camden — as  my  wife  ?  " 

"  Sir  Philip,  it  grieves  and  humiliates  me — " 
here  her  blanched  lips  faltered  refusing  further 
utterance  ;  while  in  her  eyes  lived  ail  the  pent- 
up  anguish  of  her  soul,  as  they  sought  his  hope- 
lessly. 

"  I  see,  I  understand,"  at  length  muttered  Sir 


30  THE  BRIDE  OF  1NFELICE 

Philip,  and  his  words  were  accompanied  with  a 
contemptuous  eneer.  "It  grieves  and  humiliates 
you  to  acknowledge  your  marriage  a  contretemps." 

As  he  spoke  he  rose  and  measured  the  apart- 
ment with  deliberate  step  and  with  his  hands 
firmly  clasped  behind  him  ;  then  he  came  and 
stood  before  her  where  she  sat  with  burning  tear- 
less eyes  fixed  upon  the  carpet. 

"  Am  I  not  right,  Hortense,  Lady  Camden  ?  " 
she  heard  him  say  presently,  and  there  was  some- 
thing in  his  voice  that  compelled  her  to  look  up 
and  meet  his  cruel  eyes. 

She  answered  him  almost  without  breathing 
between  the  sentences  : 

"  Sir  Philip,  I  shall  make  no  attempt  to  un- 
deceive you.  Though  I'd  rather  have  died  with 
my  heart's  secret  buried  away  from  you  and  all 
the  world,  I  admit  it ;  I  do  not  love  you,  I  have 
never  loved  you  !  /  am  not  happy  ! " 

An  age-long  silence  during  which,  stood  Sir 
Philip  still  outwardly  calm,  and  with  his  short, 
fat  fingers  playing  indolently  with  the  ends  of  his 
mustache. 

The  little  bisque  clock  upon  the  bracket  re- 
minded them  that  the  hour  was  nine.  After  the 
last  musical  stroke  had  declined  into  the  silence, 
Sir  Philip  said  in  the  same  contemptuous  tone 
and  with  a  contortion  of  the  scarred  lip  ^hich 
was  frightful  to  see  : 

"  Then  I  am  to  understand  that  you*  married 


LADY  CAXDEN  31 

me  simply  to  gain  a  titled  position  ?  Ha  !  You 
are  an  exceptional  artist !  Society,  however, 
would  little  believe  its  idol  had  descended  to  so 
common  a  level.  You  have  acted  your  role  with 
such  adroitness  as  to  escape  the  criticism  of  the 
scandal-loving  world  in  which  we  move.  I  con- 
gratulate you ! " 

At  his  words  Lady  Camden's  face  flushed  a 
deep  crimson.  Yet  she  answered  him  with  that 
quiet  hauteur  that  characterized  her  : 

"It  is  not  true.  As  Hortense  Ayers  I  was 
happy  beyond  a  desire  or  regret.  I  married  you, 
Sir  Philip,  to  please  and  gratify  an  ambitious 
mother.  You  are  a  strange  man  not  to  have  con- 
ceived from  the  very  first  hour  of  our  engagement 
my  true  feelings  toward  you." 

"  Lady  Hortense — a — the  appellation  suits  you 
so  admirably,  my  dear,  don't  you  know  !  "  paren- 
thesized Sir  Philip  with  ineffable  mockery.  He 
heeded  not  the  swift,  deprecating  gesture  with 
which  Lady  Camden  raised  her  hand,  but  after  a 
moment's  pause  he  went  on  in  the  same  jeering 
tone  : 

"  It  suits  your  spirituelle  beauty  to  be  so  sub- 
missive to  that  scriptural  platitude  'Children 
obey  your  parents,'  etc.;  but  that  you  are  such  a 
martyr  to  it  had  best  not  become  known  to  the 
world.  In  perjuring  yourself  at  the  sacred  altar 
of  wedlock  as  you  did,  you  have  sunk  to  the  low- 
est strata  of  moral  degradation.  Yours  is  a  self- 


62  THE  BRIDE  OF  1KFELICS 

imposed  penance,  and  let  it  be  however  bitter,  it 
could  not  suffice  for  the  enormity  of  your  crime. 
I  am  not  one  who  would  rave,  tear  his  hair,  and 
finally  drown  himself  in  the  slums  for  the  sake 
of  a  soulless ." 

"  Sir  Philip,  cease,  I  implore  you  !  Leave  me. 
I  am  ill !"  Hereupon  Lady  Hor tense  interrupted 
him  with  a  poignant  cry  of  misery. 

He  stood  for  some  moments  after  she  had 
spoken,  looking  down  on  the  proudly  bent  head 
of  his  wife,  and  contemplating  with  implacable 
calm  the  little  diamond  dagger  ornament  thrust 
through  the  thick  coil  of  her  jet-black  hair,  and 
the  gems  sparkling  upon  her  hands,  which  were 
crossed  listlessly  and  gleamed  like  ivory  upon 
the  folds  of  her  rich  mauve  gown.  He  observed 
that  her  whole  attitude  was  that  of  ineffable 
despair  ;  but  this  did  not  appeal  to  Sir  Philip  in 
the  least. 

There  was  the  same  hard,  metallic  slur  in  his 
voice,  when  finally  he  said  : 

"  Yes,  I  will  leave  you.  You  shall  not  often  be 
afflicted  with  my  presence.  But — a — as  I 
have  said,  do  not  lose  sight  of  the  requirements 
of  your  position  in  this  establishment.  If  you 
do  not  comprehend  the  duties  of  a  titled  lady,  I 
am  certain  your  mother  does.  Always  have  Mrs. 
Ayers  here  to  direct  them,  and  I  am  sure  my 
entertainments  will  be  successful  and  beyond 
reproach."  ~V->W  ... 


LADY  CAMDEN 

A  moment  later  when  Lady  Hortense  heard  the 
door  close  and  knew  that  he  had  gone,  she  rose 
languidly,  and  crossed  the  room  to  the  large 
window,  whose  view  commanded  the  river.  With 
a  hasty  impetuous  movement  she  threw  open  the 
casement  and,  leaning  her  head  against  it, 
wearily  gazed  out  taward  the  glittering  waters 
with  hot,  yet  tearless  eyes. 

"  Oh,  would  I  had  died  when  a  happy, 
unsullied  child,"  cried  she  aloud  in  her  misery. 
"Would  I  had  died  when  a  child  !" 

The  subdued  murmur  of  waters  came  to  her  as 
if  in  sympathetic  response,  and  gradually  the 
sound  ministered  to  and  soothed  her  somewhat. 

All  night  she  lay  awake  listening  to  the  river's 
sad  monotone,  and  in  the  early  morning  when 
she  slept  and  Anine,  her  devoted  maid,  bent 
anxiously  over  the  lovely  young  face,  with  its 
underlying,  yet  unhidden  grief,  the  pale  lips 
parted  and  the  girl  heard  them  repeat  slowly  the 
mysterious  words  which  ever  since  Lady  Cam- 
den's  advent  to  Maplehurst  had  seemed  to  haunt 
her  dreams: — 

"  Blood-dyed  waters,  murmuring  far  below." 


CHAPTER  V 

A   MORNING   ENCOUNTER 

Have  I  dreamed  ?  or  was  it  real 

What  I  saw  as  in  a  vision 
Wben  to  marches  hymeneal 

In  the  land  of  the  Ideal 
Moved  my  thoughts  o'er  fields  Elysian? 

«QWEET  warbler,  good  morning  I"  exclaimed 

vJThayer  Volney,  as  his  pretty  cousin,  chanting 
these  words  of  Longfellow,  came  suddenly  upon 
him  the  morning  after  his  arrival  at  Ivendene, 
where  he  sat  half  concealed  behind  a  tuft  of 
rushes  near  the  swan-float,  enjoying  the  soft, 
languorous  sunshine  and  the  dreamy  picture  of 
the  water  with  its  procession  of  gleaming  white 
fowl  floating  in  the  shadows  of  the  foliage. 

As  Valois  had  flaunted  up  the  little  path, 
under  the  canopy  of  low  hemlocks,  her  thoughts 
had  been  full  of  this  young  man;  but  she  started 
in  amazement  as  his  voice  greeted  her  so  abruptly. 

"Why!  "  cried  she  joyously. 

"  I  little  dreamed  of  seeing  you  out  at  this  early 
hour,  cousin  Thayer  ;  indeed  mamma  had  just 
enjoined  me  not  to  allow  you  to  be  awakened,  as 
she  thought  you  required  a  good  long  rest  after 
your  tedious  voyage.  Did  you  sleep  well  ?"  she 

asked. 

(34) 


A  MORNING  ENCOUNTER  35 

"  To  make  a  candid  avowal,  my  dearest  cousin, 
I  scarcely  slept  at  all,"  Thayer  answered.  "  The 
pleasure  of  meeting  with  my  American  kindred 
made  slumber  impossible,  and  I  was  so  anxious 
for  the  morning  to  come  when  I  would  see  more 
of  them,  that  I  rose  almost  at  the  first  signal  of 
its  approach."  As  he  spoke  he  bent  his  eyes  half 
guiltily  upon  a  willovy  twig  which  he  had  been 
whittling. 

"What  were  you  singing  just  now  ?"  he  asked, 
as  the  young  girl  fluttered  down  beside  him  on 
the  rustic  seat. 

"Singing?  Oh!  I  was  not  singing;  I  was 
simply  crowing  some  words  which,  I  think,  were 
from  Longfellow,"  returned  Valois,  flushing  with 
embarrassment  as  she  stripped  the  needles  from 
a  hemlock  bough  which  overreached  them.  "  I 
like  Longfellow,"  added  she,  "and  often  adapt 
his  lines  to  some  favorite  tune ;  but  I  have  no 
voice  to  sing,  positively  none  1  Mamma  says 
she'd  as  soon  hear  my  parrot  croak  as  my  funny 
attempts  at  singing." 

Thayer  laughed  outright  at  her  drollery. 
"But,"  said  he,  encouragingly,  "you  are  very 
young.  A  few  years  may  work  a  surprising  de- 
velopment in  your  vocal  talent." 

"  No,  I  shall  never  be  able  to  sing — never  !  it 
isn't  in  me.  Now  Alice — Alice  Meredith  I  mean 
— has  warbled  like  a  bird  from  babyhood.  With 
her  it  is  as  natural  to  sing  as  it  is  to  breathe :  I 


36  THE  BRIDE  OF  1NFELICE 

want  you  to  hear  her,  and  shall  try  and  get  her 
to  sing  for  you  this  evening. 

Thayer's  heart  grew  restless  at  the  mention  of 
her  name.  He  hesitated  with  the  words  upon  his 
lips.  "  I  heard  her  singing  last  night,  and  already 
do  I  know  the  beauty  and  magic  of  her  voice." 
He  would  not  allude  to  that  song,  "  My  love  has 
come  ;"  he  would  treasure  the  memory  of  it  self- 
ishly within  his  own  bosom,  that  its  charm  might 
not  lose  any  of  its  sweetness.  Little  reading  his 
thoughts  Valois  chattered  on  volubly. 

"  How  odd  it  was,  your  coming  this  morning  to 
the  very  spot  which  I  myself  love  better  than  all 
others,  though  there  are  many  lovely  nooks  about 
Ivendene.  I  make  regular  morning  visits  here. 
I  love  to  sit  in  the  warm  sunshine  and  watch  the 
shining  swans  floating  in  precise  file  down  the 
pond,  and  to  listen  to  their  queer,  unintelligible 
babble.  They  always  welcome  me  with  a  glad 
chorus,  and  the  birds  as  well  know  when  to  look 
for  me.  See  !  I  have  brought  my  handkerchief 
full  of  crumbs  for  them  ;"  so  saying,  she  unfolded 
a  bit  of  snowy  cambric  and  revealed  the  swans' 
breakfast,  which  she  began  tossing  towards  them 
in  dainty  morsels. 

They  both  laughed  like  children  at  the  manceu- 
vers  of  the  graceful  fowls,  as  they  dove,  fought 
and  struggled  for  the  white  flecks,  and  after  the 
feeding  was  over  they  rose  to  stroll  about  the 
grounds.  ^  % 


A  MORNING  ENCOUNTER  37 

They  were  approaching  the  deer  park,  which 
was  hemmed  in  by  a  high  rock  wall,  all  en- 
wreathed  in  riotous  ivy,  and  which  lay  beyond 
the  garden  hedge,  when  Thayer  asked  abruptly 
and  in  a  voice  that  was  not  quite  steady  : 
•  "Your  friend,  Miss  Meredith,  where  is  she  hid- 
ing herself  this  lovely  morning  ?- " 

"In  the  library.  Alice  is  forced  by  present 
circumstances  to  sacrifice  much  in  the  way  of 
recreation.  She  has  been  wont  for  the  last  two 
years  to  spend  the  greater  part  of  her  vacations 
with  me  here  at  Ivendene,when  we  always  enjoyed 
our  regular  morning  rambles  together  ;  it  is  differ- 
ent now.  She  is  studying  ambitiously  for  musical 
examination.  She  hopes  soon  to  secure  a  position 
in  one  of  the  Boston  schools  to  teach." 

"  Is  your  friend,  then,  dependent  upon  her  own 
efforts  for  a  livelihood  ?  "  The  question  was  put 
involuntarily,  yet  with  an  eager  anxiety  which 
prompted  Valois  to  look  up  quickly  ;  but  Thayer 
had  stooped  ostensibly  to  examine  a  peculiar 
plant  growing  by  the  side  of  the  walk,  thus  she 
did  not  see  the  deep  flush  which  dyed  his  cheeks 
and  brow  crimson.  She,  however,  hesitated,  in- 
wardly annoyed  with  herself  for  having  so  inad- 
vertently disclosed  her  friend's  position.  Surely 
it  would  humiliate  Alice  to  have  him  know. 

"  But  then,"  she  reflected  the  next  moment, 
"  the  whole  world  knows  of  it ;  besides,  it  is  no 
disgrace,  it  is  simply  a  misfortune  to  which  any 


38  THE  BRIDE  OF  Iff  FELICE 

man  of  blameless  character  is  liable  to  fall  heir. 
He  could  not  by  any  possible  chance  think  the 
less  of  my  dearest  friend  for  her  adversity,  and 
he  had  better  hear  it  from  my  lips  than  from 
those  of  a  prejudiced  world."  Upon  this  she  said 
to  her  cousin,  who  had  risen  from  his  half-kneel- 
ing posture  and  was  looking  at  her  in  anxious 
suspense : 

"Alice  will  be  dependent  upon  herself  from 
this  time  forward.  Only  two  days  ago  the  news 
of  her  father's  insolvency  was  declared  in  all  the 
papers.  He  was  one  of  the  wealthiest  brokers  in 
Boston  and  it  was  generally  supposed  that  his 
business  was  one  of  the  most  substantial ;  but  it 
seems  that  he  himself  had  been  aware  of  the 
coming  crisis  for  many  months — as  far  back  as 
last  May,  when  he  made  an  enormous  speculation 
in  worthless  mining  shares  ;  since  then  he  has 
frittered  away  all  his  fortune  in  striving  to  regain 
that  first  fatal  loss,  and  even  their  magnificent 
house  in  the  city,  with  all  its  equipages,  has  been 
seized  and  is  to  be  sold  for  debt." 

She  did  not  notice  at  this  juncture  the  low  out- 
cry from  Thayer,  but  went  on  sadly  : 

"  Mrs.  Meredith  and  her  three  daughters  will 
be  forced  out  upon  the  world  to  gain  a  living  as 
best  they  can.  Think,  Cousin  Thayer,  how  they 
must  suffer !  think  of  all  that  ihey  must  inevi- 
tably be  brought  to  endure  in  the  yea~s  to  come  ! 
Oh,  it  almost  breaks  my  heart  when  I  think  of 


A  MORX1XG  ENCOUNTER  39 

one  so  young,  so  gentle  and  lovely  as  Alice  Mer- 
edith having  to  submit  to  so  cruel  a  lot !  Look- 
ing toward  the  vista  of  coming  years,  I  seem  to 
gee  her  toiling,  pale,  prematurely  aged  and  utterly 
weary  of  life,  for  the  barest  means  to  sustain  it ; 
and  I  pity, — oh;  I  pity  her  so  !  "  With  this  the 
young  girl  covered  her  face  with  both  hands,  and 
Thayer  heard  her  sobbing  softly,  and  saw  the  tears 
drop  from  between  her  fingers  down  upon  the  dry 
leaves  at  her  feet. 

He  stood  by,  silent  and  pale,  waiting  for  her 
to  regain  her  composure. 

When  she  looked  up  at  length,  he  asked,  with 
enforced  calm  : 

"When  does  Miss  Meredith  return  to  Boston  ?" 

"  On  the  first  of  next  month,  about  the  time 
that  we  go.  Ah  !  here  are  my  pets  !  "  exclaimed 
Valois,  whose  sunny  temperament  never  suffered 
her  to  harbor  a  grief  for  many  moments. 

They  had  come  suddenly  to  the  park  gate. 

"  You  see  that  great  antler  deer  yonder,  the 
largest  of  them  all  ?  "  said  Valois,  as  they  en- 
tered, "  he  is  my  favorite.  Come  here,  Dante  !  " 

At  this  the  deef  approached,  but  instead  of 
going  up  to  his  mistress,  he  approached  her  com- 
panion and  rubbed  his  nose  familiarly  upon  the 
tip  of  his  gaiter. 

Thayer  laughed,  letting  his  hand  fall  upon  the 
creature's  head,  just  as  we  have  seen  him  do  once 
before. 


40  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICS 

11  Dante  and  I  have  met  before,"  he  explained 
to  his  cousin,  "  as  I  came  through  the  pastures 
last  evening  he  approached  and  saluted  me  in  the 
same  manner  you  have  just  witnessed.  His  vol- 
unteered friendship  won  my  heart  on  the  spot.  I 
shall  buy  him  a  handsome  bell  and  collar." 

Valois  flashed  him  a  grateful  smile,  and  a  few 
moments  later,  in  obedience  to  the  breakfast  bell, 
they  left  the  park  and  walked  slowly  toward  the 
house. 

Near  the  mammoth  fountain,  which  was  play- 
ing its  crystalline  sprays  in  the  bright  sunshine, 
they  came  suddenly  upon  Alice  Meredith,  who 
was  just  in  the  act  of  pinning  in  the  belt  of  her 
simple  white  flannel  gown  a  knot  of  daisies,  fresh 
plucked  from  the  dew-lit  sward. 

She  returned  Valois'  kiss,  and  then  murmured 
a  cheerful  "  Good  morning,  Mr.  Volney,"  letting 
her  eyes  meet  his  earnest  regard  for  an  instant  as 
she  spoke,  and  then  flushing  to  the  roots  of  her 
bright  hair,  which  the  sunlight  touched  and  glor- 
ified as  the  trio  passed  up  the  garden  path  and 
disappeared  behind  a  trellis  thickly  covered  with 
intermingled  ivy  and  clematis  vines. 


CHAPTER  VI 

CAUGHT   IN   THE    STORM 

Such  is  life — a  changing  sky, 
eometimes  shadow,  sometimes  bright; 

Morning  dawns  all  gloriously 
And  despair  shuts  in  the  night. 

—Catherine  Mitchell. 

rT^O  one  who  has  always  been  accustomed  to 
1  move  in  that  serene  social  estate  which  only 
opens  its  precincts  to  people  of  great  wealth  and 
influence,  it  must  be  an  inconceivably  bitter 
experience  to  have,  almost  without  a  moment's 
warning,  to  surrender  a  position  that  had  ever 
been  supposed  to  be  one  that  was  perfectly  secure 
and  steadfast. 

But  Mrs.  Meredith  sustained*  the  blow  with 
great  fortitude  ;  and  by  degrees  during  the  brief 
fortnight  passed  at  Ivendene,  her  sweet,  aristo- 
cratic face  assumed  a  look  which  told  that  she 
was  learning  to  accept  the  harsh  decree  of  Provi- 
dence with  placid  resignation ;  that  she  had 
ceased  to  rebel  against  the  derisive  hand.  But 
this  look  was  not  repeated  in  the  face  of  her 
daughter. 

There  was  a  mournfulness  in  the  dark-blue  of 
Alice  Meredith's  eyes  which  perpetually  hinted 
(41) 


43  TOE  BRIDE  Of  lyfELIC* 

that  her  efforts  to  appear  happy  and  interested 
were  enforced.  Sighing  had  become  habitual 
with  her,  and  the  long,  tremulous  breaths  seemed 
to  whisper  of  the  latent  weight  upon  her  heart, 
which  every  day  grew  heavier. 

She  always  gang  when  requested,  but  the  voice 
that  made  her  the  legitimate  child  of  music  was 
never  heard  to  vibrate  with  spontaneous  melody, 
as  it  had  upon  that  evening  when  Thayer  Volney 
had  stood  in  the  gloaming  without  watching  her 
through  the  window. 

She  had  always  loved  Ivendene  with  the  sur- 
rounding intricate  foliage  and  sloping,  sunlit  lea, 
over  which  one's  gaze  could  wander  far  away  to 
where  the  breakers  dashed  their  white  spray  upon 
the  rocky  shore.  She  had  always  loved  the 
simple  gayeties  indulged  in  at  this  peaceful  sum- 
mer house,  and  was  never  wont  to  weary  of 
them  ;  but  now 'there  seemed  something  lacking 
in  the  color  of  the  landscape  which  but  a  season 
ago  had  impressed  her  so  deeply  with  its  beauty; 
and  the  gayetiea  had  all  at  once  become  monot- 
onous and  tasteless  to  her. 

Some  distinguished  society  people  had  been 
invited  from  the  city  for  the  formal  house  party 
which  it  was  the  custom  of  the  Elwoods  to  give 
ere  quitting  Ivendene  for  the  season. 

Mrs.  Meredith  and  Alice  declared  their  inten- 
tion of  returning  to  Boston  ere  they  should 
arrive,  which  idea,  however,  was  .so  rigidly 


CAUGHT  IN  THE  STORX  43 

opposed  on  the  part  of  Mrs.  Elwood  and  Valois, 
and  also  on  the  part  of  the  kind- hearted  old 
Colonel  himself,  that  they  were  compelled  to  give 
it  up  and  surrender  themselves  to  thoughts  of 
coming  days,  which  they  instinctively  knew 
would  be  replete  with  bitter  humiliations  for 
them. 

So,  indeed,  they  proved. 

In  those  few  days  of  martyrdom,  that  proud 
mother  and  daughter  learned  how  full  of  hypoc- 
risy a"nd  artifice  was  the  world  in  whichj  only  a 
fortnight  since,  they  had  been  courted  and 
worshipped  as  children  of  wealth.  They  per- 
ceived' the  sneering  contempt  in  all  the  rigid 
formalities  offered  them,  and  accepted  the 
effronteries  with  smiling  decorum,  although 
inwardly,  they  writhed  in  bitter  resentment  and 
unutterable  humiliation.  Yet  above  this  there 
was  ever  the  prevailing  sincerity  which  was 
lavished  in  the  affection  of  their  hostess  and  her 
fair  young  daughter,  and  which  served  them  as 
a  buoy  serves  a  man  who  cannot  swim. 

They  anchored  their  wounded  spirits  upon  this, 
and  so  kept  themselves  above  water  during  those 
long,  trial  days  which  at  last  came  to  an  end. 

Mrs.  Elwood  watched  the  brougham  drive  out 
of  the  gates  of  Ivendene,  which  was  bearing  her 
last  guests  away  to  the  station,  and  then  turned 
away  with  the  incredulous  words  upon  her  lips  : 

"  Who  would  have  dreamed  there  existed  such 


44  THE  BRIDE  OF  ISFELICE 

hypocrisy  in  the  world  !     It  is  inconceivable  !  " 

That  night  Mrs.  Meredith  fell  asleep  with  her 
face  pressed  against  a  tear-wet  pillow.  Alice  had 
stolen  to  her  room  after  she  had  retired  and, 
kneeling  by  the  bedside,  had  whispered  : 

"  Mother,  I  am  glad  we  have  been  shut  out 
from  that  world  of  falsity  and  shallow-hearted- 
ness.  I  had  rather  be  a  fisherwoman  like  those 
we  saw  at  Nahant  the  other  day,  picking  up 
clams  in  the  surf,  than  to  become  such  a  form  of 
deception  as  those  women  whom  we  have  always 
believed  in  until  now.  Adversity  is  a  kind  friend 
after  all,  for  she  leads  us  up  to  that  mount  of 
truth  and  light  from  which  we  can  view  life  in 
all  its  uncovered  reality." 

So  the  tears  which  Mrs.  Meredith  had  shed 
were  those  of  thankfulness  to  Him  who  had  given 
her  beloved  child  intuition  to  divine  that  which 
she  herself  had  been  blinded  to  when  young,  and 
a  purity  of  soul  that  revolted  against  deception. 

Seldom  had  Thayer  Volney  been  alone  in  the 
presence  of  Alice  during  the  fortnight  they  had 
spent  together  at  Ivendene,  and  he  was  certain 
that  the  young  girl  purposely  avoided  him  ;  for 
whenever  they  had  been  thrown  in  each  other's 
society,  Alice  had  found  some  pretext  for  a 
hurried  withdrawal  from  his  presence,  and,  unless 
Valois  composed  a  third  party  she  would  not 
permit  herself  to  remain  for  the  briefest  interval 
under  the  spell  of  his  dark,  magnetic  eyes  which 


CAUGHT  IN  THE  STORM  45 

she  always  felt  were  riveted  upon  her. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  day  previous 
to  that  which  the  Merediths  had  set  for  their 
leave-taking  from  Ivendene. 

The  day  had  been  clear  and  wind-still  ;  but 
close  upon  sunset,  some  scattering  flecks  marred 
the  sky's  fairness,  and  these  collected  into  a  dark 
and  glowering  mass  after  their  gorgeous  tints  had 
faded,  and  soon  they  had  spread  until  all  of  the 
blue  was  hidden,  except  a  streak  on  the  far 
horizon. 

Valois  and  her  cousin  had  been  standing  on 
the  veranda,  looking  toward  the  mist-wreathed 
coast,  end  enjoying  in  rapt  and  kindred  silence 
the  boundless  beauty  of  the  sunset.  Neither  of 
them  heeded  the  keen  southeasterly  breeze  which 
was  rising. 

The  girl's  short,  jetty  curls  were  tossed  in 
riotous  abandonment  about  her  Gypsy  face,  and 
her  wide,  scarlet  sash-ribbons  flapped  and  swished 
and  finally  wrapped  themselves  about  the  legs  of 
her  companion,  the  bright  flash  of  color  suddenly 
diverting  his  glance  from  the  far  horizon  where  it 
had  BO  long  distraitly  rested. 

"  The  wind  is  blowing  up  quite  a  gale,  Valois," 
said  he,  "are  you  not  chilly  ?  Had  I  not  best 
bring  a  wrap  for  you  ?"  he  asked  solicitously. 

"  I  am  not  cold,"  returned  his  cousin  ;  then  she 
turned,  and  with  a  sudden  impetuosity,  laid  her 
hand  upon  his  arm.  "  Where  can  Alice  be  ?" 


40  TEX  SRIDS  OP  INFSLICX 

cried  the  young  girl,  with  a  strange  seriousness 
in  her  voice. 

"  Where  can  Alice  be  ?"  the  vexed  winds 
seemed  to  take  up  the  startled  question  and  drag 
it  through  the  darkling  elements. 

Thayer  Volney  looked  at  his  cousin  with  mute 
pale  lips. 

The  winds  grew  louder  and  the  sky  grew 
darker,  and  all  nature  seemed  to  put  on  a  livery 
of  grief  for  the  day's  death. 

What  was  it  shining  out  through  his  eyes  ? 
"  Such  ineffable — oh,  I  cannot  find  a  word  to  ex- 
press that  look  !  It  is  something  I  have  never 
seen  in  human  eyes  before,"  said  Valois  to  her- 
self. 

"  Don't  you  know  really  where  your  friend  is, 
Valois  ?"  Thayer  at  length  questioned. 

"  No.  I  was  up  to  her  rooms  just  before  com- 
ing to  the  veranda  an  hour  or  more  since,  but  she 
was  not  there.  I  noticed  that  her  cloak  and  hat 
were  missing,  and  concluded  that  she  had  gone 
for  one  of  her  solitary  strolls.  She  has  not 
returned,  I  am  almost  certain  ;  and  I  fear  she 
will  be  caught  in  the  storm — there  is  surely  a 
storm  coming  on.  See  !  it  already  rains  !"  and 
she  held  out  to  him  one  chubby  white  hand,  upon 
the  back  of  which  a  solitary  drop  of  water  spar- 
kled. 

"  I  will  get  an  umbrella  and  go  in  quest  of 
her,"  said  Thayer,  calmly.  » 


CAUGHT  Jit  THE  STOSlf  47 

He  was  turning  to  go  when  suddenly  Valois 
cried,  pointing  toward  the  mist-wreathed  meadow, 
"  Look  yonder,  cousin  Thayer  !  that  dark  figure 
moving  over  the  ]ea  is  Alice.  The  storm  has 
indeed  caught  her,  and  she  is  running." 

Thayer  cast  one  swift  glance  in  the  direction 
signified,  and  the  next  instant  he  had  disap- 
peared. 

Valois  saw  him  a  moment  later,  springing  at  a 
perilous  speed  down  the  terrace  steps  ;  she 
watched  him  flying  over  the  lowland  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  lea,  until  the  gloaming,  with  its  thick- 
ening vista  of  rain,  blotted  him  from  view,  when 
with  a  shiver  she  turned  from  the  solitary  ver- 
anda and  entered  the  drawing-room,  where  all 
was  at  delightful  variance  with  the  discomfort 
without.  Here  she  seated  herself  at  her  embroid- 
ery frame,  with  the  look  which  she  had  seen  in 
her  cousin's  eyes  still  haunting  her.  "  What  was 
that  look  ?"  she  again  asked  herself;  and  gradu- 
ally, out  of  the  light  and  fragrance  of  the  room 
there  seemed  to  grow  the  answer  to  her  question. 

She  heard  it,  and  was  glad. 

"  Miss  Meredith,  pray  do  not  be  startled  ;  it  is 
I ;  come  to  meet—  to  offer  you  the  shelter  of  my 
umbrella.  I  trust  you  have  escaped  a  severe 
wetting." 

"  Oh — no — I  am  not  wet ;  which  good  fortune 
is  due  to  my  long  waterproof,"  said  Alice,  with 


48  THE  BRIDE  OF  1XFELICE 

visible  confusion.  "You  are  very  kind.  I  am 
grateful,"  she  added  briefly,  and  her  last  words, 
very  low-spoken,  were  calm,  and  measured  with 
that  quiet  grace  which  he  had  noticed  was  one  of 
her  chief  charms.  Yet  he  believed  he  detected  in 
the'm  a  restraint  of  tears. 

"  Take  my  arm,"  said  he,  "  the  ground  has 
already  become  wet  and  slippery."  She  accepted 
it  in  silence,  and  in  silence  they  moved  on  to- 
gether, he  feeling  the  cold  frorn  her  little  ungloved 
hand  penetrate  through  his  thick  sleeve  as  he 
pressed  the  member  warm  against  his  heart. 

At  length  Alice  said  : 

"  I  did  not  realize  the  distance  I  had  walked, 
and  probably  should  not  have  stopped  before 
reaching  the  beach  road  had  not  a  drop  of  rain 
splashed  in  my  face  to  remind  me  that  I  had 
gone  far  enough.  The  storm  came  on  so  sud- 
denly," she  added. 

"Very;"  answered  her  companion,  "I  was 
standing  with  Valois  out  on  the  veranda,  when 
suddenly  she  remembered  that  you  were  out,  and 
liable  to  be  overtaken  by  it.  The  elements  are 
very  capricious.  One  would  not  have  dreamed 
this  afternoon  that  it  would  rain  before  night." 

"And  yet,"  said  Alice,  "it  is  seasonable.  Our 
rains  usually  set  in  early  in  October." 

"  Of  course,  all  the  foliage  will  be  ruined  in  the 
pastures  ?  "  said,  or  rather  interrogated  her  com- 
panion. * 


CAUGHT  IX  THE  -SXORJf  49 

"Very  likely." 

"I  am  sorry.  As  I  passed  through  them  this 
morning  I  promised  myself  a  collection  of  those 
superbly  tinted  maple  leaves  to  treasure  as  a  sou- 
venir of  my  visit  to  New  England." 

"  If  I  had  thought — "  the  young  girl  checked 
abruptly  the  sentence  which  had  been  upon  her 
lips.  "  I  noticed,"  she  went  on  presently,  hoping 
inwardly  that  he  would  not  detect  the  incoher- 
ency  of  her  words,  "that  VaJois  had  a  small 
basket  of  maple  leaves  and  fern  sitting  in  her 
room.  She  will  give  you  these." 

As  she  spoke  the  elements  were  lit  up  suddenly 
by  a  livid  flash  of  lightning.  His  eyes  were 
turned  toward  her,  and  the  light  revealed  to  him 
her  sweet  face  all  swollen  and  with  tear-drops 
gleaming  upon  her  down-bent  lashes. 

The  sight  of  her  sorrow,  stung  and  wounded 
him  deeply,  and  he  cried  out,  hardly  conscious 
of  what  he  said  in  that  moment  of  passionate 
sympathy  :  .  • 

"  Alice  !  I  cannot  bear  to  see  you  so  unhappy! 
Adversities  must  come  to  us  ail  sooner  or  later  in 
life,  but — but  the  hurt  of  all  sorrow,  however  keen 
at  first,  is  swift  in  passing  away.  Yours  can 
endure  but  for  a  little  space  of  time — it  is  but  one 
of  the  transient  shadows  of  human  experience." 

"  You  know,  then.     You  have  been  told  ?  " 

"  Yes,  for  many  days  the  one  thought  para- 
mount in  my  mind  has  been  of  you,  my  one  ab- 


50  THE  BRIDE  OF  1NFELICE 

sorbing  prayer  has  been  that  the  cloud  may  soon 
be  lifted  from  your  young  life.  I  would  make 
you  happy  at  any  self-sacrifice ;  believe — trust 
me,  Alice !  " 

It  was  the  second  time  that  he  had  called  her 
by  her  Christian  name,  and  his  voice,  so  low  and 
appealing  in  its  fervor,  entered  her  soul  like  divine 
music,  making  a  momentary  golden  glimmer 
flash  upon  her  benighted  world  like  a  promise  of 
something  undefined  but  beautiful,  still,  in  its 
shapelessness.  It  vanished,  however,  like  that 
recent  streak  of  lightning  in  the  sky,  leaving  the 
confusion  more  confounded  than  ever,  and  mak- 
ing her  heart  to  cease  its  action  for  very  wonder 
whence  the  gleam  had  come  and  whither  van- 
ished. 

"  You  are  silent.  You  doubt  me  !  "  her  compan- 
ion breathed  quickly  ;  and  beneath  the  obvious 
grief  in  his  voice  there  was  a  shade  of  rebuke. 

"  No,  no,"  she  rejoined  warmly,  "  do  not  think 
me  so  ungrateful,  Mr.  Volney,  I  beseech  you  !  I 
cannot  acknowledge  such  words  as  you  have  just 
spoken  to  me  by  trite  terms  of  gratitude  ;  but  I 
shall  treasure  them  always  in  deepest  admiration 
and  esteem." 

They  had  now  gained  the  terrace  wall  and 
slowly  ascended  the  steps,  the  lantern  in  the  ves- 
tibule above  sending  down  a  golden  shaft  of  light 
to  them  in  which  Thayer  plainly  saw  the  beauti- 
ful, sad  face  of  the  woman  he  had  already  come 


CA  VGHT  IN  THE  STOJRX  61 

,to  love  with  his  whole  young  and  passionate  soul. 
'Yet  he  could  not  trust  himself  to  speak  again  to 
her — not  even  when,  as  they  reached  the  vesti- 
bule, she  suffered  her  eyes  to  meet  his  earnest 
wistful  glance  for  an  instant,  and  forced  a  smile 
to  her  lip  as  she  observed  : 

"  Of  course,  you  know  this  is  to  be  our  last 
night  at  Ivendene  ?" 


CHAPTER    VII 

A   MODERN   HERCULES 

AFTER  breakfast  the  following  morning  as 
Colonel  Elwood  adjusted  his  overcoat  in 
the  hall,  preparatory  to  driving  to  the  station 
where  he  was  to  take  the  early  train  for  Boston, 
his  nephew  joined  him,  himself  well  muffled  for 
going  out : 

"  I  am  going  to  volunteer  you  my  companion- 
ship to  the  city  this  morning,  uncle  Howard," 
said  he,  without  looking  up  from  the  glove  which 
he  was  in  the  act  of  buttoning. 

"  I  shall  be  gratified,  my  boy,"  the  elder  gen- 
tleman responded  ;  "  but,"  added  he,  "  I  thought 
it  likely  you  would  accompany  Mrs.  Meredith  and 
Miss  Alice  to  town  this  afternoon.  You  knew 
they  were  leaving  Ivendene  to-day  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Thayer,  changing  color,  u  I  shall 
contrive  to  get  back  in  time  to  attend  them.  The 
mail  arrives  this  morning  from  England,  and  I 
am  impatient  for  letters  which  I  am  expecting 
from  home." 

"  Aye,  certainly,  of  course,"  his  uncle  conceded 
sympathetically. 

The  downpour  had  endured  all  night,  but  had 
(52)  ' 


A  MODERN  HERCULES  53 

now  subsided,  leaving  the  air  swathed  in  heavy 
vapors,  with  a  cold,  keen,  wind  blowing  from  the 
north  and  bearing  the  prophesy  of  winter  in  its 
breath. 

A  new  sun  strove  vainly  to  warm  the  earth 
back  from  the  stolid  state  it  had  assumed  during 
the  night ;  much  less,  so  kindly  an  influence,  the 
heavy  weight  of  iron  wheels  scarce  left  an  impres- 
sion, as  they  rolled  along  the  solitary  country 
road,  where  the  dismantled  birch  and  maple  trees 
were  grouped  together  in  shuddering  desolation 
over  the  dark  and  frozen  residues  of  their  once 
beauteous  foliage. 

Thayer  Volney  marked  with  an  acute  inward 
pang  the  disappearance  of  all  the  russet  and  red 
and  gold  of  yesterday's  autumn  glory,  and  him- 
self shivered  at  the  coldness  of  the  landscape. 
He  thought,  with  a  still  deeper  smart  of  pain  as 
he  looked  away  over  the  barren  landscape  toward 
the  city,  as  the  train  sped  thither,  how  many 
poor  people  there  were  in  that  mighty  arena  of 
life  who  were  at  that  very  monent  without 
means  to  protect  themselves  against  the  cold  that 
made  him  button  his  Russian  sable  overcoat 
closer  about  his  throat — how  many  there  were 
without  clothing,  without  fuel,  without  shelter, 
or  even  a  wherewith  to  lay  their  heads  at  night  ? 
"  How  many  of  them  had  once  been  the  favored 
of  wealth  and  affluence  ?  How  many  of  them 
had  sunk  all  at  once  from  the  gilded  labyrinths 


54  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

down  through  the  shaft  of  adversity  to  grovel  in 
the  squalors  of  poverty,  of  degradation  and  nfi- 
nite  shame  ?  " 

As  thus  he  questioned  himself,  his  soul  rose  up 
in  hot  rebellion,  and  took  the  form  of  a  mighty 
opponent  against  that  demon  which  is  daily 
enrolling  the  names  of  hapless  victims  upon  its 
list,  and  condemning  the  inmates  of  happy  homes 
to  such  lives  as  this,  and  which  would  dare  to 
lift  a  hand  against  the  woman  who  had  all  at 
once  become  the  incentive  of  noble  purposes  in 
his  life. 

Arriving  duly  in  Boston,  uncle  and  nephew 
separated,  the  latter  going  at  once  in  quest  of  the 
score  of  letters  which  were  awaiting  him,  among 
which  were  two  bearing  the  crest  of  Volney 
Wold. 

Over  these  he  lingered  longest. 

There  were  some  words  almost  obliterated  by 
tears  which  had  fallen  from  the  eyes  of  his 
mother,  Lady  Marguerite,  as  she  wrote  of  the 
painful  void  engendered  by  his  absence. 

"  But  I  shall  strive  for  better  endurance,  my 
boy,  my  heart's  idol  I  "  said  Lady  Marguerite, 
toward  the^close  of  her  letter. 

"I  will  try  very  hard  to  bide  the  time  which  must 
elapse  before  I  will  see  your  face  again.  You  will  come 
back  to  me  with  that  face  heavily  mustached  and 
bronzed  with  foreign  suns.  Oh,  I  often  grieve  to  think 
of  loeing  my  boy  in  manhood's  full  maturity !  but  I 
know  this  is  unreasonable ;  it  is  inconsistent  with  Time, 


A  tlODERX  HERCULES  56 

who  surely  marks  each  day  of  our  lives  with  some 
change;  then  let  that  change  be  however  great  in  you, 
my  own,  I  know  in  my  innermost  heart  that  you  will 
still  remain  my  darling,  noble  boy,  filial  and  constant 
to  the  end." 

His  own  eyes  were  not  without  tears  as  he 
folded  this  letter  and  placed  it  away  in  his  vest 
pocket,  after  which  he  quickened  his  way  down 
town. 

He  alighted  from  a  street-car  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  State  House,  and  had  passed  out  through  the 
Common  to  Fremont  street,  when,  upon  glancing 
down  that  busy,  rattling  thoroughfare,  he  saw 
suddenly,  a  cab  and  pair  come  tearing  down  the 
street  at  a  horrifying  gait.  "A  runaway  I  "  he 
ejaculated  aloud. 

There  was  a  panic  upon  both  sides  of  the  busy, 
bustling  way.  The  counter-marching  mass  of 
humanity  were  crushing  their  ways  to  places  of 
safety ;  women  and  children  were  screaming  ; 
horses  and  vehicles  were  being  precipitated  out 
of  their  perilous  course  to  make  way  for  those 
madly  plunging  chestnuts  as  they  dashed  on  and 
on. 

Many  in  that  intricate  mob  saw  the  white  face 
which  was  pressed  despairingly  against  the  cab 
window  as  it  passed.  Many  heard  the  prayer 
which  now  and  then  rose  above  all  that  terrific 
dim  and  noise. 

"  Save  me  !  save  me,  for  the  love  of  God  !" 

Another  moment  and    the  foaming,  plunging 


56  THE  BRIDE  OF  IXFEL1CE 

steeds  would  pass  Thayer  Volney — only  one 
golden  moment  between  himself  and  the  oppor- 
tunity to  rescue  a  human  life  from  a  most 
horrifying  death. 

Not  once  did  the  young  Englishman  reflect 
upon  the  dread  hazard  of  that  opportunity  which 
involved  his  own  life.  Not  once  did  the  question 
of  "  self"  rise  up  between  him  and  chivalry. 

Like  a  young  Hercules  he  stood  with  every 
muscle  fixed  for  the  fray  ;  and  when  the  oppor- 
tune instant  came,  he  hurled  himself  from  the 
pavement  and,  with  a  hand  of  iron,  grasped  the 
silver  trappings  of  the  horses  and  gave  them  a 
sudden  powerful  jerk.  They  reared,  they  plunged 
in  the  air  for  an  instant,  then  settled  their  tremb- 
ling fore-limbs  upon  the  cobblestones,  neighed  and 
were  still. 

Prom  the  mighty  multitude,  which  had  wit- 
nessed this  startling  deed  of  heroism  there  uprose 
a  storm  of  applause.  Men  waved  their  hats, 
women  their  handkerchiefs,  and  the  wave  upon 
wave  of  "  bravos "  which  ran  along  the  throng 
were  accompanied  by  the  thunderous  clapping  of 
hands. 

He  did  not  hear  them.  The  swift  action  had 
cost  him  nearly  all  of  his  bodily  strength,  and  his 
right  arm  had  almost  been  wrenched  from  its 
socket.  For  a  moment  he  reeled  with  faintness 
,ind  acute  pain  ;  but  by  a  great  effort  he  mastered 
the  spell,  and  when  it  had  quite  passed,  he  saw 


A-MODERX  HERCULES  57 

a  white  face  through  the  cab-window  looking  out 
upon  him  with  great  startled  eyes  which  wore, 
above  their  terror,  an  expression  of  dumb  grati- 
tude. Her  lips  seemed  to  move,  but  if  in  spoken 
words  these  were  not  heard. 

The  crowd  was  pressing  upon  them,  and  he 
wished  not  to  make  himself  the  object  of  their 
shallow  congratulations.  He  wished  not  to  be 
the  center  of  such  a  cowardly  throng  as  this. 
Hurriedly  throwing  open  the  carnage  door  he 
bowed  low  before  the  beautiful  stranger  and  said  : 

"  Madame,  you  cannot  risk  yourself  further 
with  these  animals  ;  they  are  not  to  be  trusted. 
Can  I  assist  you  to  alight  ?  There  is  an  apothe- 
cary's shop  close  by  ;  if  you  will  allow  me  to  lead 
you  there,  I  will  procure  for  you  a  glass  of  wine." 

Without  a  word  she  placed  her  small  foot  upon 
the  step,  and  the  next  moment  they  were  making' 
their  way  together  through  the  multitude,  which 
fell  asunder  to  make  room  for  them  to  pass. 

"  Who  is  he  ?  Who  is  he  ? '.'  passed  from  lip 
to  lip,  as  the  many  pairs  of  eyes  riveted  them- 
selves admiringly  upon  the  young  Englishman's 
noble  and  handsome  face.  But  none  there  could 
answer  the  question. 

After  the  rescued  lady  had  swallowed  a  portion 
of  the  stimulant  which  was  given  her,  she  seemed 
greatly  revived  ;  even  a  tinge  of  color  came  to  her 
usually  pale  cheek  as  she  turned  her  beautiful 
dark  eyes  upon  Thayer  and  said  : 


58  THE  BRIDE  OP  1NFELICE 

11  Oh,  sir,  how  can  I  acknowledge  my  gratitude 
for  your  service  ?  Such  valor  as  you  have  shown 
passes  all  expression  of  words  !  "  and  now  her 
brown  eyes  filled  with  tears  of  emotion. 

He  bowed  low  in  deference  at  her  fervently 
spoken  words. 

"Madame,  my  act  was  merely  human,"  he 
replied,  simply  ;  and  then  he  seemed  to  grow  be- 
fore her  eyes,  as  they  riveted  themselves  upon 
him  involuntarily,  into  a  fixed  statue  of  Grecian 
ideality  ;  so  high  and  straight  and  proud  he  tow- 
ered above  her,  with  his  soft,  luminous  eyes  look- 
ing into  vacancy,  and  his  full,  curved  lips  wearing 
a  half  disdainful  expression,  for  he  was  still 
thinking  of  that  cowardly  mob  which  had  not 
ventured  the  eighth  of  an  inch  to  save  her,  but 
had  cried  out  with  vulgar  and  vehement  applause 
when  he  succeeded  in  checking  her  horses. 

Presently  he  turned  to  her  again  and  said  : 

"  There  is  a  telephone  here.  I  will  ring  for  a 
cab  and  see  you  safely  home." 

"  No,"  said  she,  "  pray  do  not  let  me  detain  you 
longer.  I  will  send  a  message  to  my  husband  ; 
he  can  reach  me  directly.  But — "  she  hesitated, 
visibly  embarrassed,  "  but  you  will  honor  me  with 
your  name  that  I  may  tell  him  ?" 

"  It  is  so  trivial  a  matter,  madam.  Humanity 
— that  is  all.  You  have  virtually  nothing  to  feel 
grateful  for.  I  would  merely  know  whom  I  have 
had  the  honor  of  meeting  so  providentially  ?  " 


A  MODERN  HERCULES  59 

"  Is  that  fair — quite  ?  "  asked  she,  and  her  eyee, 
which  seemed  to  speak  of  some  latent  sorrow, 
dwelt  upon  him  in  momentary  appeal.  Then,  in 
silence,  she  handed  him  her  card.  He  bowed 
before  her  with  uncovered  head  as  he  accepted 
this,  then  as  he  turned  away  he  repeated  the 
name  to  himself  which  he  read  upon  the  dainty 
white  tablet : 

"  Hortense,  Lady  Camden,  I  have  heard  Va- 
lois  speak  of  her,"  he  mentally  observed,  as  he 
left  the  apothecary's  shop. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE    HIDDEN    HAND 

When  them  dost  alms,  let  not  thy  right  hand  know  what  thy 
left  hand  cloeth.— New  Testament. 

<  t  A  LLIE,  a  carriage  has  stopped  at  our  door 

JL\  and  a  lady  is  alighting.  It  is  Hortense, 
Lady  Camden  !  "  cried  Blanche  Meredith,  who 
for  some  time  had  been  standing  at  the  library 
window  looking  out  meditatively  upon  the  blus- 
try  avenue. 

Alice  laid  aside  her  pen  and  rose  with  a  happy 
exclamation. 

The  next  moment  the  servant  opened  the  door 
and  announced  her  visitor.  "  You  see,  my  dear, 
I  have  waived  all  formalities,"  cried  a  voice  just 
behind  him,  and  Lady  Camden  rushed  in  and 
was  affectionately  greeted  by  her  old  schoolfellow. 

"  Hortense  !  I  knew  you  would  be  true.  I  knew 
you  would  not  prove  shallow-hearted  like  most 
of  them  !"  Alice  exclaimed,  as  tears  of  sheer  hap- 
piness rushed  to  her  eyes. 

"I  did    not  hear    of   your    misfortune  before 

last  Friday, "  explained  her  friend.     "  You  see," 

she  went  on,  "  Sir  Philip  and  I  have  been  in  New 

York  during  the  last  fortnight   and   have  been 

(60)  ' 


THE  HIDDEN  HAND  61 

careless  about  reading  the  papers.  I  took  a  cab 
last  Saturday  morning  expressly  to  come  to  you, 
but  the  horses  became  unmanageable  and  ran 
away,  causing  me  such  a  fright  that  I  was  laid 
up  at  mamma's  for  two  whole  days  afterward. 
I  thought  you  might  have  seen  an  account  of  the 
incident  in  the  papers.  You  know  they  always 
get  everything  in  these  Boston  papers.  Isn't  it 
awful  to  have  one's  name  so  dragged  in  the  dirt  ?" 

Alice  assented.  She  had  not  seen  the  account, 
and  so  Lady  Hortense  minutely  detailed  it  to  her, 
and  ended  by  saying  : 

"So  he  re  I  am,  my  dear,  left  to  go  on  to  the 
end  of  the  chapter  without  knowing  to  whom  I 
am  indebted  for  my  deliverance  from  that  horri- 
ble impending  death.  Oh,  he  was  so  courageous, 
so  heroic,  so  handsome  !"  she  added,  with  a  smile 
upon  her  soft,  half-parted  lips,  as  of  dreamy  med- 
itation! 

"It  sounds  just  like  a  romance,  Lady  Cam- 
den  !"  hereupon  declared  twelve-year-old  Blanche, 
who  had  been  listening  from  her  post  at  the  win- 
dow. "Who  knows,"  she  went  on  innocently, 
"  but  your  daring  hero  may  turn  out  to  be  some 
royal  prince,  who  may  fall  desperately  in  love 
with,  and  in  the  end  marry — oh  !  forgive  me — 
please  forgive  me,  Lady  Camden  !  I  spoke  heed- 
lessly," she  broke  off.  noting  suddenly  the  deep 
flush  which  her  words  had  called  to  Lady  Hor- 
tense's  face. 


62  THE  BRIDE  OF  JNFELICS 

This  was  very  brief-lived,  but  was  followed  by 
an  intense  pallor,  and  there  was  an  obvious  con- 
straint in  her  voice  as  she  turned  to  her  friend 
and  said  : 

"  Now,  Alice,  let  me  hear  something  of  your- 
self and  your  plans;  during  these  two  weeks,  of 
course  you  have  been  planning  and  thinking  ?" 

"  Yes,  thinking  much  ;  building  far  different 
castles,  Hortense,  from  those  which  we  used  to 
build  together  at  school.  Please  do  not  cry,  dear  ! 
We  have  already  passed  through  the  worst,  be- 
sides it  is  not  nearly  so  bad  as  it  might  have  been. 
All  our  days  cannot  be  wrought  with  sunshine, 
you  know."  And  she  repeated  those  familiar 
lines : 

Into  all  lives  some  rain  must  fall. 
Some  days  must  be  dark  and  dreary. 

"We  are  so  apt  to  count  too  high  our  summer  days  ; 
so  little  used  to  adapting  ourselves  to  the  harder 
lessons  of  life  that  prepare  us  for  the  reverses 
which  to  every  human  experience  are  almost  cer- 
tain to  come,  sooner  or  later.  I  know  that  I 
myself  have  been  one  of  the  most  heedless  of 
scholars  in  this  respect ;  but  I  have  at  last  come 
to  accept  the  lesson  of  adversity  as  one  in  which 
there  is  a  golden  text  and  a  beautiful  moral.  I 
believe  that  for  each  sorrow  there  is  added  a 
rate  of  true  merit  to  the  soul  that  suffers,  and 
suffers  bravely.  If  ever  that  time  should  come 
when  our  former  circumstances  maybe  re-estab- 


THE  HIDDEN  HAND  63 

lished  we  will  be  better  able  to  appreciate  them," 
the  girl  added  earnestly ,  and  with  one  of  her  rare 
sweet  smiles. 

"  What  are  your  plans  for  the  future  ?"  asked 
Lady  Camden,  who  had  listened  admiringly  to 
the  argument  in  which  her  brave  friend  had  dealt 
so  delicately,  so  leniently  with  the  all-ruling 
hand  which  had  been  laid  upon  her  and  hers  so 
ruthlessly. 

"  Well,  to  begin  with,"  said  Alice,  "  I  have  been 
preparing  myself  for  a  musical  review.  I  hope  to 
secure  a  position  in  one  of  the  conservatories  to 
teach  the  primary  classes." 

"  Oh,  Alice,  such  drudgery  would  kill  you  !  " 
cried  Lady  Camden,  lifting  her  small,  delicately- 
gloved  hand  in  a  gesture  of  deprecation. 

"  But  you  know  how  I  have  always  loved  the 
art,  Hortense.  What  would,  indeed,  seem  drudg- 
ery to  many  will  be  to  me  only  pleasant 
recreation,"  argued  Alice. 

"Ah,  my  friend,  when  day  after  day  you  are 
compelled  to  repeat  again  and  again  the  same 
tiresome  exercises,  with  rebellious  children,  who 
hate  practicing — most  children,  you  know,  do 
hate  it — when  you  are  compelled  to  do  this, 
recreation  will  soon  lose  its  charm  and  you  will 
find  yourself  worn  out  and  old  before  you  have 
been  teaching  a  year.  Now,  Alice  dear,  listen  ;  T 
have  a  great  scheme,"  added  she,  and  Miss 
Meredith  folded  her  slender,  blue-veined  hands 


64  THE  BRIDE  OF  1KFELICE 

over  each  other  in  her  lap  and  leaned  forward  in 
a  pretty  attitude  of  attention. 

"  It  is  this,"  went  on  her  friend.  "  You  are  to 
give  up  all  ideas  of  teaching  for  the  present  and 
come  to  Maplehurst  instead  to  officiate  as  a  kind 
of  lady's  companion  to  me.  I  find  it  exceedingly 
lonesome  and  dull  at  Camden,  and — and  I  love 
you.  I  want  you  with  me  !  " 

Her  voice  was  very  appealing,  and  her  words 
had  in  them  all  the  warmth  and  affection  of  gen- 
erous friendship  ;  but  Alice,  although  she  was 
deeply  touched  by  the  munificence  of  her  offer, 
sat  long  with  tear-brimmed  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
carpet  ere  she  answered.  She  was  thinking  thus  : 

"The  position  would  involve  so  much  of 
humiliation  for  me.  I  would  be  thrown  in  daily 
contact  with  people  of  the  world  ;  would  daily 
have  to  brook  effronteries  from  them,  as  we  did 
at  Ivendene,"  and  her  proud,  true  nature  made 
her  revolt  against  the  thought.  "Yet,  on  the 
other  hand,"  she  meditated,  "it  would  be  a  great 
triumph  for  me.  I  would  exult  in  letting  them 
see  that  we  yet  have  left  to  us  such  friends  as  the 
Elwoods,  and  Lady  Camden,  whose  influence  is 
in  itself  sufficient  to  defend  us  against  a  whole 
army  of  enemies." 

The  girl  was  not  ambitious  so  far  as  social 
achievements  were  concerned,  yet  there  was  para- 
mount in  her,  a  sense  of  arrogance,  which  made 
her  resentful  against  a  rebuff  or  slight,  and  this, 


THE  HIDDEN  HAND  65 

with  its  blending  of  delicate  defiance,  outweighed 
that  other  pride,  and  decided  her  ;  so  it  happened 
that  when  presently  her  sister  Blanche  looked 
round,  wondering  at  the  long  silence  which  had 
fallen  between  the  two,  she  saw  a  picture  that 
brought  a  mist  of  tears  to  her  eyes. 

Alice  was  kneeling  at  the  feet  of  Lady  Hor- 
tense,  with  her  head  pillowed  upon  that  lady's 
sables,  and  that  lady's  hand  laid  with  lingering 
tenderness  upon  the  bright  coronet  of  hair. 

"  Will  you  come  to  Maplehurst  ?  "  she  heard 
Sir  Philip's  wife  say,  as  she  bent  her  face  low 
over  Alice.  "  I  will  be  an  indulgent  friend,  a 
very  good  trustee,  a  much  less  exacting  princi- 
pal than  you  would  find  in  the  conservatory  of 
music.  I  will  be  a  true  sympathizer  and  more. 
I  will  be  a  sister,  Alice,  to  you." 

There  was  a  sobbing  effort  at  an  expression  of 
gratitude,  a  tender  x  lingering  embrace,  and 
Blanche  waited  to  hear  no  more,  but  rushed  out 
of  the  room  to  find  her  way  through  blinding 
tears,  along  the  hall  and  up  the  wide  flight  of 
stairs  to  Mrs.  Meredith's  private  sitting-room. 
Here  she  found  her  mother,  and  told  her  what 
had  transpired  between  Lady  Camden  and  Alice, 
and  was  astounded  to  see  that  Mrs.  Meredith 
conceded  willingly,  nay,  gladly,  to  the  newly- 
conceived  project. 

kl  How  can  we  live  with  her  away  from  us  all 


TO  THE  BRIDE  OF  1NFEL1CE 

through  the  long  days  and  nights,"  cried  the 
child  in  passionate  grief. 

She  had  always  looked  up  to  Alice  with  that 
worshipful  attachment  so  often  seen  in  younger 
sisters,  and  which  sometimes  amounts  almost  to 
idolatry  ;  and  the  first  surprised  thoughts  of 
being  separated  from  her  were  wrought  with 
ineffable  anguish,  and  all  that  day  she  hid  her- 
self away  in  a  little  room  up  in  the  attic,  and 
would  not  be  comforted. 

"  Of  course  I  cannot  ask  you  to  come  to  me  at 
once.  You  will  want  to  see  the  family  re-estab- 
lished," said  Lady  Camden,  as  she  rose  to  take 
her  departure. 

"  We  are  not  to  give  up  our  dear  old  home," 
said  Alice,  wondering  how  she  could  have  for- 
gotten until  now  to  convey  the  happy  intelligence 
to  her  friend.  "  Last  Saturday,"  she  went  on  to 
explain,  "  upon  our  return  from  Ivendene,  we 
found  papa  awaiting  us  at  the  depot,  with  a  face 
so  joyful  that  it  looked  almost  saintly.  As  he 
kissed  ma  he  pressed  into  her  hand  a  sealed 
document  which  proved  to  be  a  new  deed  to  our 
:homestead,  made  over  in  mamma's  name  by 
some  munificent  friend,  who  prefers  to  keep 
ihis  identity  in  the  background  among  that  order 
of  profound  mysteries  which  defies  all  light  of 
origin.  His  fairy  name — the  one  signed  to  the 
paper — is  Robin  St.  Cloud  ;  aside  from  which  we 
know  nothing  of  our  good  Samaii^an,  except  it 


THE  HIDDEN  HA  ND  67 

be  that  he  is  one  of  the  limited  few  in  this 
pedantic  and  parading  world  who  does  aims 
according  to  scriptural  teaching  ;  but  we  cherish 
his  name  much  as  a  child  does  that  of  Santa 
Glaus,  and  our  nightly  dreams  are  haunted  by 
ideal  fancies  of  Robin  St.  Cloud.  Last  night," 
continued  the  girl,  "  I  had  such  a  beautiful 
dream  ;  the  face  of  my  hero  was  indistinct  to  me. 
I  saw  him  as  through  a  cloud-mist  ;  but  his  eyes 
shone  out  upon  me  like  the  sun.  I  saw,  also,  his 
hand,  which  was  shapely  and  white  as  marble 
In  it  he  held  a  scroll,  upon  which  I  saw  plainly 
written,  in  letters  which  seemed  to  be  wrought  of 
pure  gold,  the  one  word,  '  Mizpah.'  As  I  read 
the  word,  and  interpreted  its  meaning  to  myself, 
the  scroll  and  the  hand  seemed  gradually  to  dis- 
appear. When  I  awakened,  Blanche  was  stand- 
ing beside  me  ;  she  said  that  she  had  heard  me 
speaking  as  she  lay  awake,  and  came  near  to 
hear  what  I  was  saying,  It  seemed  that  I  had 
repeated  the  interpretation  of  that  word  aloud, 
for  she  asked  me  if  mizpah  did  not  mean,  '  The 
Lord  watch  between  'you  and  me.'  Don't  you 
think,  Hortense,  that  the  dream-scroll  is  in  some 
way  associable  with  the  deed  ?" 

"  Have  you  a  suitor  ?  "  asked  her  friend  sud- 
denly. 

"  No,''  returned  Alice,  then  she  added  with  a 
smile,  half  contemptuous,  half  amused,  "you 
know  the  golden  bait  has  fallen  from  my  hand." 


THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 


Lady  Camden  took  her  departure  from  the 
brown-stone  house  strangely  impressed  with  what 
she  had  heard  about  the  mysterious  deed  and  the 
dream-scroll  with  its  significant  motto,  "  Mizpah." 


CHAPTER  IX 

IN   PROSPECTIVE 

« I/TIL  ADI,  did  you  ring  ?  " 

1V1  "  Yes.  Go  up  stairs,  Anine,  to  Miss  Mere- 
dith's room,  and  if  she  is  not  engaged,  say  that 
I  am  awaiting  her  here." 

As  the  maid  withdrew,  Lady  Hortense  turned 
from  the  window,  where  for  some  time  she  had 
stood  looking  out  upon  the  dull,  cloud-massed 
sky,  and  slowly  approached  the  grate,  where  a 
bright  wood  fire  was  crackling  cheerfully  and 
filling  the  room  with  its  resinous  warmth. 

She  moved  with  an  air  of  inertness  ;  and  as 
she  placed  one  exquisitely  slippered  foot  upon 
the  polished  fender,  a  palpable  yawn  for  an  in- 
stant disfigured  her  lovely  brunette  face.  She 
was  thinking,as  she  let  her  languid  dark  eyes  stray 
restlessly  about  the  rich  apartment  with  its  paint- 
ings, its  bronzes,  its  Venitian  bowls  of  choice  cut 
roses  :  — 

"Of  what  use  is  all  this  grandeur  and  dis- 
play ?  Position  !  wherein  lies  the  triumph  of 
that  for  which  thousands  of  women  would  to-day 
sacrifice  themselves  ?  I'd  rather  be  some  rustic 
lass  like  Barbara  Harmon,  the  ferryman's  daugh- 


70  THE  BRIDE  OF  IS FELICE 

ter,  and  sit  with  her  on  the  riverbank  from  morn 
till  night  angling  for  fish  with  worm  bait,  than 
such  a  slave  to  the  conventionalities  of  the  world 
as  I  have  become." 

She  was  possessed  with  a  sense  of  ennui — a 
hovering  spirit  of  weariness  and  dread  which 
made  her  crave  to  flee  from  the.  arena  in  which 
she  was  forced,  like  a  rope-dancer,  daily  to  re-act 
her  part  before  an  on-looking  multitude.  Each 
day  seemed  to  increase  her  loathing  for  the  fic- 
ticious  role  which  she  was  compelled  to  play  with 
a  smiling  face  and  a  "  fittingness "  which  the 
most  critical  eye  could  not  censure.  The  mask 
was  smothering  her,  and  she  craved  to  be  free 
from  it. 

"  Hortense,  how  unpardonably  selfish  you  must 
think  me  !  I  had  forgotten  the  flight  of  time  in 
trying  to  solve  that  intricate  lace  pattern,"  said 
a  voice  of  sweet  contrition  suddenly  breaking  in 
upon  her  silent  reverie.  Her  friend  had  entered 
with  a  tread  so  noiseless  that  she  had  not  heard 
her  approach. 

11  It  is  I  who  am  the  selfish  one,  not  you,  my 
dear,"  said  Lady  Hortense  turning  quickly.  "  I 
positively  have  come  to  grudge  every  moment 
that  keeps  you  from  my  sight.  In  the  fortnight 
that  you  have  spent  at  Maplehurst  you  have 
spoiled  me  as  a  doting  mother  spoils  her  one  un. 
conscionable  child.  I  was  just  thinking  what  a 
martyrdom  this  place  would  be  without  you — yes, 


IN  PROSPECTIVE  71 

dear,  -martyrdom ! "  she  repeated  as  she  saw  the 
astonished  look  which  came  into  Alice  Meredith's 
eyes. 

"  But,  Hortense  !  "  exclaimed  she,  "  martyr- 
dom means  torment;  how  can  you  make  Maple- 
hurst  synonymous  with  that  word  ?  In  all  my 
life,"  Alice  added  fervently,  "  I  have  never  seen 
so  beautiful  a  place  as  this.  I  wondered  last 
night,  as  I  stood  at  my  window  looking  down 
upon  the  moonlit  river,  if  God's  serenity  ever 
touched  a  scene  of  more  surpassing  loveliness 
than  that  which  the  golden-shining  belt  of  the 
river  presented,  overshadowed  by  the  castle  walls. 
I  thought  what  an  inspiration  it  would  have  been 
to  Whittier  who  so  loved  the  Merrimac.  Oh,  I 
never  should  find  Maplehurst  dull  or  monotonous 
much  less  a  martyrdom,1'  she  ended,  earnestly. 

"Oh,  wait;  you  have  been  here  as  yet  but  a 
fortnight,"  said  Lady  Camden,  derisively.  "  Your 
romanticism  will  crave  a  new  subject  after  the 
Merrimac  has  grown  a  few  months  old  to  you. 
You  would  never  care  to  circumscribe  your  whole 
life  to  it,  as  I  must  the  greater  part  of  mine,"  she 
added  wearily. 

"  I  remember,"  said  Alice,  "one  day  when  we 
were  reading  some  novel  together,  out  in  the  sem- 
inary grove,  and  you  said  you  would  be  like  the 
heroine  of  that  story  and  some  day  live  on  a  re- 
mote island  alone  with  the  man  you  loved.  Hor- 


72  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICR 

tense,  have  you  quite  outgrown  that  spirit  of 
romance  ?  " 

Lady  Camden's  face  underwent  a  swift  pallor. 
&  flood  of  incoherent  memories  of  her  dreamy, 
felicitous  maidenhood  was  surging  through  her 
brain. 

Her  eyes  had  in  them  all  the  suppressed  mis- 
ery of  her  soul  as  she  fixed  them  upon  her  friend 
and  faltered  from  tremulous  lips  a  cry  so  full  of 
anguish  that  to  Alice  Meredith's  dying  day  she 
never  quite  forgot  it. 

"Do  not,  oh  do  not  refer  to  those  past  unsullied 
days !  Can  a  heart  outgrow  that  which  is 
instilled  within  it  as  the  flavor  of  the  wine  is 
instilled  within  the  grape  ?  No,  no !  but  the 
sweetest  wine,  under  certain  conditions,  can  be 
transformed  into  vinegar.  The  fairest  flower,  if 
put  from  the  sun's  rays,  will  soon  become  a  fes- 
tered weed  I" 

There  ensued  a  brief  silence,  during  which 
Alice  sat  with  troubled  eyes  bent  upon  the  fire- 
lit  lilies  of  the  carpet,  and  her  hands  restlessly 
clasping  and  unclasping  themselves  in  her  lap. 

Presently  she  looked  up  and  said  contritely  : 

"  I  am  sorry  if  I  spoke  unfeelingly,  Hortense. 
Forgive  me,  dear;  but  I — I  never  dreamed  but 
that  you  were  perfectly  happy " 

"  Hush,  say  no  more,"  returned  Lady  Hortense, 
and  she  bent  down  and  kissed  her.  "  With  you 
here,"  she  went  on,  as  she  drew  h^self,  with  a 


IN  PROSPECTIVE  73 

visible  effort,  out  of  her  dejection,  I  am  perfectly 
happy.  Now  let  us  speak  ot  the  coming  event — 
our  ball !  •!  have  an  enormous  afternoon's  work 
before  me,  and  shall  need  your  assistance.  There 
are  between  three  and  four  hundred  invitations 
to  address  for  the  ball,  and  others  for  the  ensuing 
house  party.  Here  is  the  list.  I  will  read  it  over 
to  you." 

She  read  to  the  bottom  of  the  first  page,  and 
turned  the  leaf : 

"  The  Forresters,  Mrs.  Rossmore,  the  Morris- 
ons, the  Dextrells,  the  Arundels,  the  Elwoods, 
Mr.  Volney — "  She  glanced  up  suddenly  as  she 
read  the  unfamiliar  name. 

"  By  the  way,  Alice,"  said  she,  "  you  must 
have  met  this  young  Volney  at  Ivendene  whilst 
you  were  there  last  month  ?" 

She  failed  to  note  the  girl's  suddenly  agitated 
manner,  and  the  flush  that  dyed  her  face  a  violent 
crimson. 

"  Yes.  He  arrived  just  the  evening  after 
mamma  and  I,"  Alice  replied  calmly. 

"  I  have  been  told  he  is  very  handsome.  Is  he  ?" 

"  Yes,  quite  so.  Valois  says  he  is  like  the  bust 
of  Glaucus,  which  you  brought  from  Florence." 

"  What  is  his  first  name  ?" 

"  Thayer." 

"  T-h-a-y-e-r."  Lady  Camden  pronounced 
each  letter  as  she  wrote  the  name.  "  Thayer  1 
how  very  rarely  one  hears  that  name,"  said  she, 


74  THE  BRIDE  OF  1NFEL1CE 

"  it  has  always  been  one  of  my  favorites.  Mr. 
Thayer  Volney,  Mr.  Fred  Bentwell,  Captain 
Pometer — "  and  she  read  on  to  the  end  of  the 
list. 

It  was  almost  night  ere  the  two  ladies  concluded 
the  task  of  sealing  and  addressing  the  envelopes  ; 
but  at  last  they  were  all  stamped  and  ready  for 
the  mail  bag,  and  Thayer  Volney's  name  was  lost 
among  the  hundreds  there. 

That  night,  as  Alice  Meredith  stood  again  at 
her  window  casement,  encompassed  in  the  moon's 
light,  looking  down  upon  the  golden,  shining  belt 
of  the  river,  she  seemed  to  hear  repeated,  over 
and  over  again,  in  the  subtile  monitone  of  the 
•flowing  waters,  that  one  sentence:  "Thayer  is 
coming  !  Thayer  is  coming  !"  and  her  listening 
soul  seemed  to  swell  in  deep  and  unspeakable 
ecstacy,  as  it  took  up  the  sound  and  answered 
back  the  echo,  "  Thayer  is  coming  !  Thayer  is 
coming  !" 

When  she  had  sought  her  pillow  and  all  the 
moonlight  had  gone,  leaving  her  room  strangely 
dark  and  still,  she  could  not  hear  that  name 
repeated  more.  She  could  not  find  in  those  chaos- 
deeps  the  pair  of  dark  magnetic  eyes  whose 
power  it  was  to  thrill  her  so  :  the  voice  and  that 
pair  of  eyes  seemed  to  have  vanished  with  the 
charm  of  the  moonlight,  and  in  their  place  she 
saw  a  pale,  sad  face,  and  heard  the  voice  of  her 
friend  crying  out  : 


IX  PROSPECTIVE  75 

"  Do  not,  oh  do  not  refer  to  those  past,  unsul- 
lied days  !  Can  a  heart  outgrow  that  which  is 
instilled  within  it  as  the  flavor  of  the  wine  is 
instilled  within  the  grape  ?  No  :  but  the  sweet- 
est wine,  under  certain  conditions,  can  be  trans- 
formed into  vinegar.  The  fairest  flower,  if  put 
from  the  sun's  rays,  will  soon  become  a  festered 
weed." 

"Oh,  can  it  be  ?"  she  asked  her  troubled  heart, 
"  can  it  be  she  does  not  love  Sir  Philip  Camden  ? 
Can  it  be  that  her  union  with  him  has  robbed  her 
life  of  all  its  sun  and  embittered  it  ?" 

The  thought  dwelt  with  her  all  the  night  long. 
It  would  not  let  her  sleep. 


CHAPTER    X 

VALOIS'     SECRET 

I  wait  for  my  story— the  birds  cannot  sing  it. 

Not  one  as  he  sits  on  the  tree: 
The  bells  cannot  ring  it,  but  long  years,  oh  bring  It  1 

Such  as  1  wish  it  to  be. 

"  SONG  07  SEVEN"       —Jean  Ingelow. 

THE  mid-November  day,  which  since  its  birth 
had  been  swathed  in  heavy  vaporous  gloom, 
was  prematurely  nearing  a  close. 

Though  it  was  yet  scarce  four  o'clock,  the  pale, 
bluish  glimmer  of  electric  lights  broke  out  here 
and  there  in  the  dense  atmosphere,  and  the  wary 
lamp-lighter  had  commenced  his  nightly  round 
through  the  thoroughfares,  murmuring  to  himself 
as  he  touched  the  jets  into  animation,  that  a 
storm  was  "  brewin'  aloft." 

True  to  his  prophecy,  the  night  fluttered  in  on 
wings  of  "  eider-down,"  which,  even  in  their 
lightness,  swept  away  all  the  heavy  vapors, 
making  the  air  a  precinct  for  their  revelry  alone. 

A  young  man,  who  for  some  moments  had  been 
standing  in  the  door-way  of  a  prominent  jewelry 
store  on  Washington  street,  meditatively  watch- 
ing the  dizzily-whirling  snow-flakes  as  they  fast 
thickened  in  the  gloaming,  at  length  turned,  and 
(76) 


VALOI&  SECRET  77 

approaching  the  center  of  the  store,  where  a 
young  lady  stood  with  her  pretty  face  bent 
intently  over  a  jewelry  tray,  he  said  : 

"  Valois,  it  has  commenced  to  snow  and  the 
horses  are  getting  restless.  Have  you  about  con- 
cluded as  to  which  broach  you  will  take  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Valois,  without  lifting  her  face  from 
the  tray,  "  my  taste  is  so  capricious  that  I  cannot 
decide.  Isn't  this  a  fond  invention  ?"  she  asked, 
signifying  a  miniature  harp  which  was  formed  of 
diamonds  and  emeralds,"  and  isn't  this  beetle 
unique  ?  Of  the  two,  which  would  be  your 
choice  ?  " 

"  The  harp,"  said  the  young  Englishman, 
promptly,  so  the  question  was  settled  in  his  favor 
without  further  hesitation  ;  and  a  few  moments 
later  the  young  couple  quitted  the  jewelers  and, 
entering  their  carriage,  were  driven  homeward 
through  the  storm. 

They  were  both  unusually  quiet  during  that 
half-hour's  ride. 

Valois,  fatigued  after  a  tedious  afternoon's 
shopping,  reclined  in  her  corner,  luxuriously  at 
ease  among  the  velvet  cushions,  while  her  com- 
panion gazed  abstractedly  out  of  the  window, 
inwardly  rebuking  himself  for  being  so  stupidly 
at  loss  for  words  to  engross  and  entertain  his  fair 
cousin. 

"Surely,"  thought  he,  "during  the  last  fort- 


78  THE  BRIDE  OF  1NFEL1CB 

night  Valois  must  have  found  me  unbearably 
dull ! " 

Since  coming  to  town  the  two  cousins  had  been 
on  a  ceaseless  round  of  pleasures.  They  had 
given  liberal  attention  to  the  opera,  the  drama, 
the  art-rooms, the  historical  building,  the  mar- 
kets, the  manufactories ;  yet  all  the  while 
Thayer  Volney  had  ielt  himself  a  selfish  ingrate 
in  the  hands  of  her  hospitality. 

With  pretty  Valois  Elwood  at  his  side,  any 
other  young  man  would  have  been  satisfied  and 
happy,  beyond  a  single  desire  or  regret ;  but  he, 
Thayer,  while  proud  and  tenderly  fond  of  his 
American  cousin,  attended  her  everywhere  in  a 
half-hearted  fashion,  with  his  mind  always  pre- 
occupied with  memories  of  another  face,  and 
other  days  when  it  had  been  his  ecstacy  to  know 
that  Alice  Meredith  and  himself  were  breathing 
under  the  self-same  roof.  Each  day  had  brought 
to  him  its  details  of  pleasure  since  he  had  last 
looked  upon  the  face  which  lived  paramount  in 
his  memory  from  morn  till  night,  from  night  till 
morn,  and  would  not  be  obliterated  by  any  scene, 
however  alluring,  however  beautiful,  however 
strange  to  him.  Yet  it  had  seemed  years  to 
him  since  the  morning  when  Valois  had  said  : 

"  Alice  has  left  town — gone  to  sojourn  indefi- 
nitely at  Maplehurst, — some  miles  distant  from 


VALOIS'  SECRET  79 

"  Maplehurst !  oh,  that  is  far  !  "  he  had  said 
while  looking  upward  at  the  stars  that  night. 

But  the  heart  they  say  is  farther-reaching  than 
the  voice,  and  so,  perhaps,  she  knew  that  his 
thoughts  were  of  her  then. 

"  Ah,  yes,"  said  Thayer,  "  I  think  she  will  feel 
me  near  her.  I  do  not  think  Maplehurst  is 
further  than  love  can  reach,  but  I  would  I  could 
annihilate  that  word  'indefinitely.'  How  many 
days  and  nights,  nay,  how  many  weary  weeks 
and  months  will  be  measured  in  that  term  of 
cruel  suspense?" 

Only  two  weeks  had  passed  since  Valois  had 
told  him  this,  and  yet  he  would  already  circum- 
scribe years  unto  the  time. 

"I  had  forgotten  to  tell  you,  Thayer,"  said 
Valois,  starting  abruptly  from  her  semi-darkened 
corner  into  animation,  "that  I  had  a  long  letter 
from  Alice  Meredith,  this  morning, — " 

Silence. 

Valois  wondered  if  he  had  heard.  Thayer 
wondered  if  his  fierce  heart-throbs  were  audible 
to  other  ears  than  his  own. 

"  She  seems  wonderfully  happy  and  contented 
at  Maplehurst." 

Silence. 

The  friendly  darkness  kept  the  pallor  of  his 
face  a  secret  unto  itself. 

"  I  think  it  is  so  much  nicer  for  her  to  be  there 
than  here  in  town,  working  her  very  life  away  in 


W  THE  BRIDE  OF  1KFELICE 

a  conservatory  of  music.  You  know  she  is  acting 
as  a  kind  of  companion  to  Lady  Camden." 

He  essayed  to  speak,  but  realizing  the  common- 
placeness  of  his  words  ere  they  were  framed,  he 
repressed  them  and  merely  shifted  his  position 
to  assure  his  cousin  that  he  was  not  asleep,  that 
he  was  listening. 

"I'd  imagine,  though,  that  the  position  would 
be  a  trifle  embarrassing  to  her,  for  Sir  'Philip  is 
always  having  people  —  by  the  way,  in  behalf  of 
Lady  Camden,  Alice  importunes  us  not  to  make 
any  engagements  for  the  week  after  next,  as  they 
are  to  give  a  ball  at  Maplehurst,  followed  by  a 
house-party.  The  invitations  were  all  to  be 
sent  to-day,  I  believe.  I  want  you  to  see  Maple- 
hurst,"  added  the  young  girl.  "  It  is  built  on  a 
kind  of  bluff  overlooking  the  Merrimac,  and  is 
one  of  the  finest  estates  we  have,  being  built  after 
the  old  English  castellated  style,  and  furnished 
something  after  the  custom  of  your  continent." 

"Then  you  will  accept  the  invitations  to  Lady 
Camden's  ball?"  observed  Thayer,  as  he  feigned  a 
yawn  of  indifference,  and  again  shifted  his  posi- 
tion. 

"  Yes,  oh,  yes,  I  hope  so  !  I  should  die  of  sheer 
disappointment  if  I  had  to  miss  such  a  social 
treat  as  this  will  be,"  cried  Valois,  with  eager 
enthusiasm.  "  You  know,"  she  went  on,  "  I  have 
only  been  '  out '  a  short  time,  Alice  and  I  having 
made  our  debut  together  at  Mrs.  Carruthers'  ball 


VALOIS'  SECRET  81 

last  August.  The  event  was  in  honor  of  her  son, 
Lieutenant  Gershon  Carruthers,  who  had  just  re- 
turned with  his  ship  from  India  after  an  absence 
of  nearly  three  years.  Oh,  cousin  Thayer  !  "  she 
added  in  an  estatic  undertone  as  she  leaned  for- 
ward until  her  face  was  on  a  level  with  his  own, 
"he  will  be  there!" 

Thayer  took  her  face  between  his  hands  and 
gazed  into  it  as  well  as  the  darkness  would  per- 
mit. 

"He  will  be  there,  eh  ?  and,  oh,  Valois,  you 
will  be  glad  ?  "  he  asked,  tenderly. 

She  fain  would  have  shrunk  away  from  him 
back  into  her  corner  with  her  secret  but  half  con- 
fessed, but  he  held  her  closely  and  whispered 
imperatively  : 

"  Tell  me  all  about  it.  Tell  me  all  about  this 
naval  officer  whose  brass  buttons  and  epaulets 
have  had  such  power  to  fascinate  you,  little  coz  ?  " 

She  felt  her  face  burning  hot  and  thought  him 
aggressive  beyond  forgiveness. 

"  Thayer,  I  will  not — "  she  commenced,  rebel- 
liously. 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  shall,  you  must !  "  he  interrupted 
with  exasperating  authority. 

"  Well  he — he  is  just  the  very  nicest  man  I  ever 
met — there  !  " 

"  What  else  ?  " 

"  There  is  nothing  else.     Release  me,  tyrant ! 


82  TEE  BRIDE  OF  IXFELICX 

if  you  do  not  release  me  I  shall  never  speak  to 
you  again." 

"  Very  well ;  I  shall  not  release  you,  however^ 
until  you  have  made  a  full  confession  of  your  love 
affa — Good  heavens  !  here  we  are,  home!"  Thayer 
broke  off,  as  the  carriage  stopped  abruptly.  He 
sprang  out  and  assisted  Valois  to  the  white  ground 
and  they  ran  together  through  the  almost  impen- 
etrable darkness  and  thickly  whirling  flakes  up 
the  steps  to  the  vestibule.  Here  in  the  rays  of 
the  lantern  their  eyes  met.  Valois'  shone  out 
above  her  sables  with  shy  mirth,  yet  she  feigned 
a  dignity  ludicrously  at  variance  with  this  as,  for 
the  second  time  she  branded  him  a  ' '  tyrant." 

"If  you  divulge  my  secret,"  said  she,  "or  in 
any  manner  allude  to  it  in  the  future,  I  shall 
abhor  you,  positively"  but  her  laughter  floated 
down  to  him  as  she  reached  the  top  of  the  stairs 
and  sped  along  the  hall  toward  her  room  ;  and 
this  told  him,  despite  her  words,  that  she  trusted 
him  with  her  secret  implicitly. 

Half  an  hour  later  they  met  at  dinner.  During 
the  meal  the  forthcoming  ball  and  house-party 
were  discussed,  and  it  was  decided  that  a  note  of 
acceptance  should  be  sent  to  Maplehurst  on  the 
following-day. 

Later  in  the  evening  Valois  said  to  her  cousin  : 

"  Why,  Thayer,  what  has  come  over  you  to 
make  you  look  so  happy  to-night  ?  You  have  not 
looked  so  affable  since  we  came  to  town.  Are  you 


V A  LOIS'  SECRET  83 

glad  we  are  to  go  to  Maplehurst  ?  "  She  looked 
him  steadily  in  the  eyes  as  she  spoke,  and  he  read 
in  her  glance  a  look  of  intelligence  that  made 
him  start ;  he  collected  himself,  however,  at  once 
and  answered  briefly.  "Yes  ;  I  am  glad." 

There  ensued  an  eloquent  division  of  survey, 
after  which  they  felt  they  understood  and  could 
henceforth  sympathize  with  one  another  pro- 
foundly. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE   BUST   OP   GLAUCUS. 

An  image  uncertain 

And  va?ue,  dimly  shaped  itself  forth  on  the  curtain 
Of  the  darkness  around  her.    It  came  and  it  went: 
Through  her  senses  a  faint  sense  of  peril  it  sent. 

"  LUCILB."— Owen  Meredith. 

n^HE  night's  darkness  was  so  intense  that  the 
1  fast-driven  snow  fell  undiscernable,  and  the 
course  of  the  luckless  country  wayfarer  was  only 
defined  by  the  fitful  light  shed  abroad  by  car- 
riage lamp,  or  hand-swung  lantern. 

Sir  Philip  Camden's  horses  made  but  sluggish 
progress  on  their  way  over  the  storm-swept  high- 
way toward  Maplehurst ;  even  though  the  driver 
made  unremitting  and  merciless  cuts  at  them 
with  the  lash,  and  urged  and  jerked  their  bits 
until  the  blood  oozed  from,  and  congealed  upon 
their  nostrils. 

Sir  Philip,  alternately  dozing  and  imprecating 
the  fates  who  thus  deterred  him  from  the  com- 
forts of  his  fireside,  at  length  flung  open  the 
carriage  door  and  called  out  vehemently  to  the 
driver : 

"  Wake  up  those  devilish  horses,  will  you  ?  " 

"  I  can't  make  'em  go  no  faster,  yer  honor.  The 
snow  be  right  in  their  faces." 

(84)  V  ' 


THE  B  UST  OF  OLA  UCUS  85 

"  Snow,  be  d  !  Wake  up  those  brutes,  I 

say  ;  wake  tbem  up,  dolt !  dullard  !  " 

"Swish  !  crack  !  swish  !  crack  !  " 

The  exertion  was  a  futile  one.  At  the  cruelly 
wielded  and  repeated  blows  only  piteous  neighs 
came  from  the  struggling  animals  ;  the  vehicle 
jogged  along  at  the  same  dilatory  gait  as  before, 
and  Sir  Philip  was  forced  to  slam  the  door  shut 
against  the  obtrusive  wind  and  snowflakes,  and 
subside  again  into  sullen  and  impatient  luxury 
among  the  rugs  and  cushions  of  his  carriage. 

It  was  after  nine  o'clock  when  they  reached 
Maplehurst  and  an  hour  later  when  Sir  Philip, 
having  made  his  toilet  and  dined  alone,  entered 
the  drawing-room,  whose  only  occupant  was 
Lady  Hortense. 

She  was  seated  at  a  small  stand  a  short  dis- 
tance from  the  grate,  engaged  with  a  piece  of 
antique  embroidery.  The  bright  light  from  the 
fire  played  upon  her  ruby  velvet  gown,  giving 
each  soft  fold,  as  it  fell  about  her,  every  separate, 
glowing  shade  of  the  gem  from  which  it  was 
named  ;  while  the  tinted  Dresden  lamp,  which 
sat  on  the  stand,  shed  a  delicate  glow  over  her 
profile,  making  it  a  perfect  cameo  in  a  frame  of 
ebony. 

Sir  Philip  thought,  as  he  stood  for  a  moment  on 
the  threshold,  looking  at  her,  that  she  made  a  pic- 
ture which  Gainsborough,  or  Titian,  would  have 
given  pre-eminence  in  their  studios,  "  and  one," 


86  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

he  added,  "  which  three  months  ago  I  myself 
could  not  have  looked  upon  without  being 
infatuated." 

Lady  Hortense  glanced  up  listlessly  as  he 
stood  thus  in  contemplation  of  her. 

"  You  must  have  had  a  cheerless  ride,  Sir 
Philip,"  she  said,  letting  her  eyes  return  imme- 
diately to  the  bright  threads  of  her  embroidery. 
"  I  had  dinner  kept  back  for  you  till  eight,"  she 
added,  as  she  drew  the  golden  stitch  a  trifle 
tighter. 

He  watched  the  flash  of  diamonds  upon  her 
moving  hand  for  a  moment  in  sullen  silence. 

"  It  might  have  been  a  deucedly  more  pleasant 
ride ;  and — a — the  dinner  was  not  improved,  I 
dare  say,  by  being  kept  back  so  long,"  he  said  at 
length,  with  his  characteristic  drawl. 

As  he  spoke  he  drew  an  easy  chair  to  the  grate 
and  seated  himself. 

There  ensued  a  protracted  silence,  during 
which  she  felt  instinctively  his  keen,  cold  eyes 
upon  her,  as  she  always  felt  them  when  alone  in 
his  presence,  and  her  hand  grew  a  trifle  unsteady 
as  it  guided  the  glinting  thread  back  and  forth, 
and  those  stitches  made  on  the  wing  of  the  touraco 
— a  bird  of  the  orient — were  less  regular  than 
former  ones. 

The  moments  of  her  life  which  Lady  Hortense 
had  come  to  dread  mostly,  were  those  which  com- 
pelled her  to  sit  alone  as  she  was  now  sitting, 


THE  BUST  OF  OLAUCUS  87 

under  the  fixed  gaze  of  those  cruel  eyes.  At 
such  times  she  felt  an  almost  overmastering  de- 
sire to  throw  herself  on  her  knees  before  him  and 
cry  out  all  her  misery  and  despair,  at  not  being 
capable  of  feeling  any  of  that  sentiment  for  him 
which  a  wife  should  feel  for  her  husband,  and 
which  she  had  striven  hard  to  learn  but  could 
not. 

If  he  had  had  that  power  of  magnetism  in  his 
being  which  might  have  drawn  her  to  him,  with 
even  a  feeling  of  esteem  or  true  deference — that 
controlling  fascination,  which  in  some  men  is 
their  very  breath,  and  which  has  been  known  to 
engender  love  in  the  coldest  of  hearts,  it  might 
have  triumphed  over  her  in  time.  But  Sir  Philip 
had  naught  of  this  in  his  cold,  egotistical  temper- 
ament. Gradually  had  she  come  to  find  him 
callous  and  unresponsive  as  steel  to  all  the  finer 
instincts  of  nature,  and  since  that  night  when  she 
had  laid  bare  to  him  her  loveless  heart  even  the 
touch  of  his  hand  had  grown  repellent  to  her  ;  in 
some  vague  way  it  seemed  to  contaminate  her, 
and  there  were  times  when  she  shuddered 
inwardly  at  the  sound  of  his  voice,  in  which  there 
was  always  such  ineffable,  though  underlying 
contempt  when  speaking  to  her. 

She  had  come  to  interpret  the  true  nature 
which  lay  disguised  under  that  courteousness 
which  he  invariably  adopted  in  society,  and 
which  made  him  popular.  She  alone  surmised 


88  THE  BRIDE  OF  IXFEL1CE 

how  narrow  and  mean  that  nature  was,  and  how 
artificial  were  his  manners.  By  her  woman's  wit 
she  read  him.  She  knew  that  he  had  not  a 
single  thought  or  impulse  but  what  was  deep- 
rooted  with  selfishness,  and  that  his  every  ambi- 
tion was  entirely  self-centered.  She  perceived  all 
this,  and  herself  imbued  with  a  nature  which 
made  her  revolt  against  what  she  divined  in  him, 
she  knew  that  each  day  of  their  lives  must 
divide  them  farther  apart,  instead  of  reconciling 
them  to  each  other. 

A  servant  came  in  to  renew  the  fire  and  after 
sweeping  up  the  hearth,  withdrew  noiselessly.  Yet 
Sir  Philip  sat  without  unriveting  his  gaze  from 
her  profile ;  still  Lady  Hortense  sat  nervously 
drawing  the  bullion  threads  of  her  embroidery  ; 
still  oppressive  silence  reigned  throughout  the 
luxurious  apartment,  broken  only  by  the  soft  frou- 
frou of  snowflakes  as  they  fell  against  the  closely 
shuttered  windows  without,  or  the  low  soughing 
of  winds  through  the  dismantled  trees. 

Lady  Hortense  could  bear  the  strain  no  longer. 
She  let  her  bullion  skeins  fall  into  the  frame,  and 
rose.  The  action  had  been  impulsive  and  with- 
out any  forethought  of  what  her  next  step  would 
be.  She  stood  there  irresolutely  with  one  jeweled 
hand  pressing  upon  the  onyx  stand,  the  other 
toying  with  a  spray  of  stephenotis  which  she  wore 
low  on  her  bodice.  Should  she  make  some  pre- 
text to  leave  the  room,  or  should  she  go  to  the 


THE  B  UST  QV  GLA  L'CUS  89 

piano  and  play  something  ?  The  first  would  look 
awkward  and  unconventional  withal ;  the  latter 
would  be  simply  in  accordance  with  her  almost 
nightly  habit  when  there  were  no  guests  at  Maple- 
hurst,  as  was  the  case  to-night. 

She  turned  toward  the  instrument,  but  had 
scarcely  taken  a  step  when  Sir  Philip's  voice  ar- 
rested her. 

"  Lady  Hortense — a — pray,  my  dear,  I  do  not 
feel  in  a  mood  for  Wagner  nor  Beethoven  to-night. 
I  want  to  talk  over  the  ball  and  house-party  with 
you." 

Lady  Camden  turned  and  slowly  approached 
the  grate,  where  she  stood  towering  above  him  in 
all  her  proud  loveliness,  like  a  young  queen. 

She  rested  one  arm  upon  the  corner  of  the 
mantelpiece  and  directed  her  glance  toward  him 
expectantly. 

"  Well  ? "  said  she,  simply,  and  while  there 
was  in  the  word  a  quiet  submission  to  his  wish 
there  was  also  in  it  an  intonation  of  austerity 
which  made  him  glance  swiftly  up  at  her,  and 
then  laugh  a  low,  noiseless,  mirthless  laugh  which 
she  never  could  hear  without  an  involuntary 
shiver. 

"Well,"  said  he,  when  the  convulsion  had 
passed,  "pray  sit."  He  motioned  toward  a  low 
fauteuil,  as  he  spoke,  which  was  convenient  to  her, 
and  she  seated  herself  on  this  with  an  obedience 
which  was  humiliating  to  her,  yet  which  her 


90  THE  BRIDE  OF  IX FELICE 

pride  would  not  let  her  rebel  against.  Then  he 
said,  still  keeping  his  eyes  upon  her,  with  some 
of  their  recent  amusement  still  in  them  : 

"  Don't  you  know,  my  dear,  a — you  please  me 
amazingly  to-night;  a — you  affect  inanimate 
colors  so  much  that  one  is  apt  to  come  to  regard 
you  almost  as  a  statue,  or  a  vestal  virgin  ;  but 
to-night  —  a — you  are  as  brilliant  as  you  ever 
were  inanimate  before,  and  I — a — am  amazingly 
pleased — yes  !  " 

At  his  words  Lady  Hortense's  lips  curled  them- 
selves half-contemptuously .  She  very  often  heard 
him  speak  in  this  suave,  courteous  tone  to  other 
ladies,  but  he  seldom,  in  fact,  had  never  adopted  it 
toward  herself  since  the  night  when  she  had  con- 
fessed her  indifference  of  him,  excepting  at  such 
times  when  conventionality  required  it  in  the  all- 
hearing  ears  of  the  world. 

"  I  never  knew,"  said  she,  u  that  you  were  so 
distinct  as  to  preference  in  colors.  I  have  always 
liked  white,  and  as  you  say,  I  have  worn  it  con- 
siderably of  late  months  It  harmonizes  with  my 
colorless  life,"  she  added  to  herself,  "but,"  she 
went  on,  "  I  will  endeavor  to  suit  my  toilet  more 
in  accordance  with  your  taste  in  future,  Sir 
Philip." 

"  I  hope,"  returned  Sir  Philip,  "  you  will  under- 
stand you  are  not  to  thwart  your  own  pleasure  with 
respect  to  such  trivial  matters.  Wear  what  pleases 
you,  only  deport  yourself  properly  as  Lady  Cam- 


THE  BUST  OF  GLAUCUS  91 

den.  I  don't  want  the  world  to  say  that  I  have 
made  a  marble  image  of  you,  or  an  ice-plant. 
Now,  will  you  favor  me  with  the  names  of  those 
you  have  invited  ?  " 

With  keen  bitterness  within  her,  Lady  Hor- 
tense  rose  to  go  in  quest  of  the  list,  but  he  stayed 
her  as  she  reached  the  door,  saying  : 

"  A — never  mind  the  paper.  I  suppose  you 
have  asked  no  one  out  of  the  usual  set  we  meet 
everywhere  ?  " 

"I  believe  there  are  two  exceptions,"  said  Lady 
Camden,  "  Captain  Pometer,  a  present  guest  of 
the  Dextrells,  and  Mr.  Thayer  Volney  of  England, 
a  nephew  of  Mrs.  Elwood,  and  only  recently  ar- 
rived." 

"  Pometer  ! "  repeated  Sir  Philip,  musingly, 
"I  know  him,  I  believe  ;  but  this  Englishman  ? 
a  —  is  he  very  young,  say  three  or  four  and 
twenty  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  say,  as  I  have  never  seen  him,"  re- 
sponded Hortense,  Lady  Camden. 

"  If  he  is  the  fellow  whom  I  saw  on  the  street 
in  Boston  the  other  day  with  Valois  Elwood,  he 
has  certainly  a  most  striking  appearance  ;  he  is, 
in  fact,  a — what  you  ladies  would  deify — a  Greek 
god." 

"  A  Greek  god."  Lady  Hortense  repeated  al- 
most unconsciously  to  herself  the  words  ;  and  as 
she  did  so  she  lifted  her  eyes  to  the  mantel  upon 
which  stood  a  Parian  bust  of  marvelous  beauty, 


'92  THE  BRIDE  OF  IN  FELICE 

and  they  softened  with  a  carious,  tender  light  as 
they  rested  upon  the  faultlessly  cast  features, 
enveiled  in  their  expression  of  kindness  and  in- 
tellectuality. 

Sir  Philip,  watching  her  under  his  drooping 
eyelids,  saw  the  look  which  almost  transfigured 
her  face,  and  an  ominous  frown  gathered  above 
his  thick,  overhanging  brows. 

"You  are  a  devotS  of  the  classic  ?  "  he  said,  and 
his  words  were  rather  in  the  declarative  than 
questioning  tone,  and  were  spoken  with  sneering 
contempt. 

Then  without  waiting  for  her  to  reply,  he  asked : 

"  Where  did  you  get  that  bust  ?  Who  is  the 
subject  ?  I  have  never  taken  special  notice  of  it 
before." 

"  I  bought  it  in  Florence  when  we  were  abroad 
last  winter.  It  is  of  the  Athenian  Glaucus.  The 
bust  opposite  is  that  of  lone,"  said  Lady  Hor- 
tense. 

"  I  remember  the  subjects  vaguely  as  those  of 
Bulwer,"  observed  Sir  Philip. 

"  I  remember  them  as  two  of  the  loveliest  and 
noblest  characters  in  the  annals  of  fiction,"  ex- 
claimed Lady  Hortense  fervently. 

"  Of  fiction,  or  of  love  ?  "  questioned  Sir  Philip, 
insidiously. 

"  Well,  if  you  will,  of  love,  which  is  the  truest 
application,  indeed."  • 

Sir  Philip  pressed  his  lips  firmly  together,  as 


THE  BUST  OF  OLAUCUS  93 

though  to  repress  some  words  which  might  have 
risen  to  them.  Then  he  rose  and  measured  the 
room  with  deliberate  step,  with  his  hands  clasped 
behind  him  and  his  head  bent  slightly  forward. 
The  attitude  was  that  which  he  always  assumed 
in  moments  of  suppressed  anger,  and  Lady  Hor- 
tense  watched  him  in  some  concern. 

At  length  he  returned  to  the  hearth.  "  I  have 
some  letters  to  write,"  he  said  shortly,  and  then 
without  another  word  he  left  her. 

When  he  was  gone  Lady  Camden  once  more 
turned  her  eyes  upon  the  bust  of  the  hero  Glau 
cus,  letting  them  rest  upon  the  marbie  image  for 
some  moments  in  a  fixed  gaze. 

Then  these  words  came  faintly  from  her  lips  : 

"  Once  in  my  life  have  I  seen  a  face  which  re- 
sembled that,  both  in  feature  and  expression. 
Valois  Bays  hor  cousin  is  like  my  Glaucus.  Sir 
Philip  says  he  is  like  a  Greek  gcd .  Could  he  by 

any  possible  chance  be  .     Oh,  how  absurd  ; 

how  perfectly  absurd  !  That  would  be  consistent 
with  fiction  only.  Such  a  remarkable  coinci- 
dence is  rarely  met  with  in  real  life ";  and  she 
put  the  thought  from  her  entirely.  But  just  be- 
fore she  turned  to  quit  the  room  she  bent  her 
regal  head  over  the  image  of  Glaucus  and  touched 
it  with  her  lips.  "  How  happy,"  she  murmured, 
must  lone  have  been  with  such  a  hero  to  love 
her  1" 


CHAPTER  XII 

A  WATCH-WORD 

Our  acts  our  angels  are,  or  good  or  ill, 
Our  fatal  shadows  that  walk  by  us  still. 

— Fletcher. 

several  days  the  snow  continued  to  fall, 
with  short  intermissions  ;  but  with  the  full 
moon  came  a  change  in  the  weather,  and  the  daz- 
zling white-mantled  earth  froze  into  a  staid 
solidity  which  offered  its  season  of  exuberant 
sports  to  trie  pleasure-loving  world. 

Ere  the  abatement  of  the  storm,  Sir  Philip  had 
suggested  to  Lady  Camden  the  postponement  of 
their  forthcoming  festivities  until  a  less  inclemert 
season  ;  but  as  he  saw  the  elements  subsiding 
into  peace,  and  watched  the  sovereign  moon  sail 
in  victorious  sublimity  over  the  white-capped 
hills  beyond  Maplehurst,  he  rubbed  his  fat  hands 
together  with  renewed  ambition,  declaring  that 
his  entertainments  would  prove  doubly  attractive 
with  a  seven-mile  ride  from  the  railway  station, 
over  a  road  as  smooth  and  solid  as  ivory,  and  with 
an  hundred  silvern  sleigh  bells  to  make  inspiring 
accompaniment  for  song  and  laughter. 

Thus,  with  his  spirit  set  at  ease  on  the  throne 
of  anticipation  the  night  preceding  that  appointed 
for  the  ball  arrived. 

(94) 


A  WATCH- WORD  96 

He  had  spent  two  hours  after  dinner  in  looking 
over  the  menu  card,  which  the  caterers  had  sub- 
mitted to  him,  and  in  an  interview  with  those 
worthies — which  made  the  last  of  a  series  of 
seven,  in  every  one  of  which  he  had  forcibly  ex- 
pressed his  pedant  desire  that  each  and  every 
dish  was  to  be  served  strictly  on  the  European, 
and  not  the  American  plan — and  now  it  was  the 
half  hour  past  ten,  and  he  sat  alone  in  his  library 
absorbed  in  the  day's  newspapers.  He  had  read 
the  stock  reports,  he  had  scanned  two  columns  of 
dialogue  which  had  taken  place  that  day  in  court 
apropos  of  a  noted  divorce  case  ;  he  had  read  the 
latest  social  slander,  and  now  his  eye  wandered 
to  the  column  of  coming  society  events.  Over 
most  of  the  items  he  passed  after  a  casual  glance, 
but  about  half  way  down  the  line  his  eye  became 
fixed  with  heightened  interest.  The  paragraph 
he  read  was  this  : 

"  Le  beau  monde  is  now  at  the  threshold  of 
the  most  important  society  event  of  the  season  : 
The  Camden  ball  will  take  place  at  Maplehurst 
to-morrow  night ;  and  it  is  expected  that  Sir 
Philip  and  the  charming  Lady  Camden  will  en- 
tertain their  guests  in  a  manner  that  will  be 
royally  elaborate  and  splendid." 

As  Sir  Philip  read  this  his  usually  cadaverous 
face  flushed  suddenly,  and  he  passed  his  hand- 
kerchief across  his  brow  in  a  gesture  which 
further  bespoke  his  agitation.  He  re-read  the 
item,  then,  laying  the  paper  aside,  he  folded  his 


96  THE  BRIDE  OF  ISFELICE 

arms  and   leaned   backward  in  his  chair,  with 
these  words  of  Shakespeare  on  his  lips  : 

Men  at  sometimes  are  masters  of  their  fates. 
The  fault,  dear  Brutus,  is  not  in  our  stars, 
But  in  ourselves  that  we  are  underlings. 

"  Underlings ! "  he  ground  the  word  from  be- 
tween his  teeth  with  a  sneer  in  which  there  was  a 
"laughing  devil,"  but  his  lips  grew  livid  and 
seemed  to  writhe  with  some  undercurrent  of 
emotion  as  again  he  took  up  the  newspaper  to 
read,  or,  rather,  to  stare  blankly  at  the  type  with 
eyes  which  seemed  aflame  with  some  nefarious 
fire. 

For  some  moments  he  remained  sitting  in  this 
distrait  attitude,  then  suddenly,  and  with  an 
audible  curse,  he  crushed  the  journal  into  a 
shapeless  heap  upon  the  table,  and,  rising,  strode 
over  to  the  bell  and  rang  it  vehemently.  In  a 
moment  his  summons  was  answered  by  a  liveried 
footman. 

"  Send  the  coachman  to  me  immediately,"  said 
Sir  Philip  peremptorily,  and  in  the  brusque  tone 
that  he  generally  used  when  addressing  his  ser- 
vants. 

The  man  withdrew,  and  the  master  of  Maple- 
hurst  filled  in  the  interval  of  waiting  by  pacing 
restlessly  up  and  down  the  room. 

"  Your  honor  sent  for  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  a — did  you  order  those  trappings  and 
bells  as  I  commanded  you  ?  " 


A  WATCH- WORD  97 

"  Yes,  yer  honor  ;  they  came  this  afternoon." 

"  Aside  from  the  sleigh,  which  Barton  will  drive, 
I  wish  you  to  have  runners  put  to  the  brougham, 
and  drive  to  meet  the  3:  40  and  5:  40  trains  from 
Boston  to-morrow  afternoon." 

"  Oh  !  yer  honor,  there  won't  be  trappings  or 
robes  enough." 

"  Get  trappings  ;  get  robes,  dolt !  Go  the  first 
thing  in  the  morning  to  Boston  and  get  what  will 
be  necessary  to  complete  the  turn-out." 

The  man  bowed,  then  stood  awaiting  further 
orders ;  but  Sir  Philip  turned  and  resumed  his 
restless  promenade,  whereupon  he  took  his  dis- 
missal for  granted,  and  started  to  go ;  ere  he 
reached  the  door,  however,  he  was  arrested  by 
that  peculiar  drawl : 

"  A — you  have  not  noticed  a  strange  man 
lurking  about  the  premises  lately,  have  you  ?  " 

"No,  yer  honor.'' 

"  You  are  certain  ?  " 

"Quite  certain." 

"  You  may  go." 

Left  alone,  again  Sir  Philip  threw  himself  in 
the  chair  which  he  had  previously  occupied  at  the 
reading  table,  and  with  one  elbow  resting  there- 
upon, and  his  forehead  bowed  to  his  palm,  he 
remained  long  in  motionless  silence — a  silence  so 
intensely  profound  that  when  at  length  there 
eaine  a  sharp  little  rattling  sound  against  the 


W  f  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

window,  he  started  like  one  abruptly  awakened 
from  sound  sleep. 

"What  was  that  ?  What  is  here?"  he  mut- 
tered audibly  ;  and  his  voice  sounded  strained 
and  unnatural ;  while  again  his  lips  grew  pale, 
and  the  muscles  about  them  underwent  a  visible 
contortion. 

The  next  instant,  however,  his  composure 
returned  as  reason  answered  him  reassuringly, 
saying  : 

"  It  was  but  an  ice-clad  tendril  of  ivy  hanging 
pendant  against  the  pane  and  made  restive  by 
the  wind." 

,  In  that  small  sound  had  some  grim  phantom 
of  the  past  come  back  to  haunt  and  mock  you,  oh 
Sir  Philip  Camden  ? 

As  he  looked  toward  the  window  he  noticed  for 
the  first  time  that  the  shutters  were  slightly 
open,  and  once  more  he  rose  and  crossed  the  room 
to  shut  them  with  the  same  sullen  violence  that 
he  had  used  a  few  moments  since  in  crushing  the 
unoffending  newspaper.  Then  for  the  second 
time  he  stepped  to  the  bell  and  rang  it. 

His  servants  were  prompt  in  obeying  any  sum- 
mons from  him,  and  the  door  opened  the  next 
moment  to  admit  his  valet. 

''Tate,  I  wish  to  confer — be  seated — I  wish  to 
confer  with  you,  upon  a  matter  of  confidence — of 
the  utmost  confidence  ;  you  understand  ?  " 

The  valet  bowed  attentively. 


A  WATCH-rfoRD  99 

"  For  three  consecutive  nights,"  continued  Sir 
Philip,  "  I  have  been  shadowed  the  whole  distance 
from  Boston  to  Maplehurst." 

"  Shadowed  ?    Sir  Philip  ! " 

"Yes,  shadowed;  followed  vigilantly  and  stealth- 
ily by  some  person  whose  design  must  be  as  evil 
as  it  is  deep-hidden  and  insidious.  Now,  I  want 
you  to  serve  me." 

"  If  it  lies  within  my  power  to  serve  you,  Sir 
Philip,  I  can  know  no  greater  honor,"  said  the 
man,  elevated  in  his  own  estimation  several  de- 
grees at  the  thought  of  being  taken  into  his 
master's  trust ;  for  Sir  Philip  was  a  man  of  mag- 
isterial attitude  toward  his  servants,  and  they  all 
stood  in  awe  of  him. 

"To-morrow  at  nightfall,"  went  on  Sir  Philip, 
"you  will  conceal  yourself  in  the  shrubberits 
near  the  carriage  entrance,  and  watch  there  until 
ten  o'clock  to  see  if  any  strange  person  loiters 
about  surreptitiously.  After  that  hour  come  to 
me  with  any  report,  however  trivial,  you  may 
have  to  make." 

"  It  will  be—" 

"  Chut !  some  one  is  coming.  Go,  now  ;  and 
remember  that  motto,  '  on  counait  Vami  au  besoin,' 
a  friend  is  known  in  the  time  of  need." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

BEWAKE  1 

I  cannot  tell  h.ow  the  truth  may  be ; 

I  say  the  tale  as  'twas  said  to  me.  • 

(  (  Tl/TILADI,  a  messenger  has  just  called  and 
iVl  left  this  parcel  for  you." 

Lady  Hortense,  who  was  standing  at  the  win- 
dow of  her  private  sitting-room  looking  out  upon 
the  snow-bright  landscape,  turned  at  her  maid's 
words  and  glanced  at  the  neatly  wrapped  and 
labelled  package  in  her  hands. 

"It  is  my  ball  dress,"  said  she  in  a  tone  of 
relief.  "  I  had  feared  that  Madame  would  not 
be  able  to  get  it  finished:  I  gave  the  order  so  late." 

As  she  spoke,  Anine  stood  with  a  bewildered 
look  on  her  pretty  face. 

"  Why,  miladi  I  Your  ball  dress  ?  I  do  not 
understand.  I  have  laid  out  the  beautiful  cream 
faille  toilet  which  I  thought  you  had  ordered 
especially  for  to-night." 

"I  forgot  to  tell  you  of  my  changed  plan  ;  in- 
deed good  Anine,  I  have  been  so  occupied  for  the 
past  few  days  with  the  numerous  details  of  dec- 
oration, and  so  forth,  that  I  have  scarcely  given 
myself  a  thought.  Open  the  box.  I  am  certain 
(100) 


BEWAREI  101 

you  will  commend  the  new  dress.  I  have  worn 
vrhite  so  much — you  yourself  have  often  suggested 
a  change,  and  Sir  Philip,  I  imagined,  would  be 
pleased." 

"  Oh,  miladi ! "  the  girl  cried,  in  ardent  admir- 
ation, as  she  shook  out  all  those  shining  folds  of 
amethist  velvet,  "it  is  splendid  !  It  is  lovely  ! 
Also,  the  color  is  well  a  lapted  to  your  dark  style 
of  beauty ;  yet,  alas,"  she  added,  with  a  little 
moue,  "  I  regret  the  cream  faille.  I  prefer  the 
iiaivetS  of  your  former  costumes." 

"Well,"  said  Lady  Hortense,  with  a  little  in- 
dulgent smile,  (she  was  very  fond  of  her  devoted 
maid)  "I  will  wear  the  other  dress  on  some  early 
occasion  to  please  you.  Has  mamma's  head 
grown  any  better  ? "  she  questioned,  anxiously, 
as  Anine  laid  the  gleaming  robes  carefully  aside. 

"  I  have  not  been  to  madame's  apartments  since 
luncheon  ;  but  as  I  came  along  the  hall  I  thought 
I  heard  her  talking  with  Miss  Meredith  in  the 
back  drawing-room." 

"Then  she  is  better — certainly.  I  will  go — 
Ah,  mamma,  dearest !  "  she  exclaimed,  turning 
lovingly  toward  a  lady  of  middle  age  and  digni- 
fied bearing,  who  at  that  moment  entered  the 
room  through  the  half  open  door. 

"  My  dear  Hortense,  I  have  to  congratulate  you 
upon  the  extraordinary  taste  which  you  have 
exercised  in  the  decorations  downstairs.  Truly, 
every  room  is  a  separate  dream-like  conception 


102  THE  BRIDE  OF  IN  FELICE 

of  Elysium  !  "  said  Mrs.  Ayers,  with  quiet  enthus- 
iasm, as  she  offered  her  cheek  to  be  kissed.  "  You 
see,"  she  added,  "  I  have  been  trespassing  on  for- 
bidden ground." 

"  I  am  so  glad  you  are  pleased,"  said  her  daugh- 
ter. "  I  had  been  intending  to  show  you  through 
the  rooms  before  any  of  the  guests  should  arrive. 
Do  you  feel  quite  rested  ?  Is  your  head  better  ? 
Can  I  make  you  a  cup  of  tea  ?  " 

"  My  child,  you  quite  overwhelm  me  with  your 
pretty  solicitudes,"  gasped  Mrs.  Ayers,  as  she 
sank  languidly  into  a  luxurious  chair.  "I  do 
feel  rested,  and  am  certain  to  be  quite  myself 
after  a  cup  of  your  delicious  green  tea,"  she  re- 
plied ;  whereupon  Lady  Hortense  rang  for  the 
tray  and  things  to  be  brought  at  once. 

"I  wanted,"  continued  Mrs.  Ayers,  "to  come 
out  by  the  late  train  last  night,  but  my  headache 
grew  so  violent  that  I  was  forced  to  forego  the 
project,  and  really  feared  that  I  should  be  com- 
pelled to  abandon  it  altogether." 

"Oh,  mamma  !  if  you  had,  how  then  should  I 
possibly  have  managed  ?  You  know  how  I 
always  depend  on  you  at  such  trying  times  as 
this.  And  Sir  Philip,  I  am  sure,  would  have  been 
in  despair.  His  chief  aspiration  is  to  make  his 
entertainments  a  success ;  'and  he  has  always 
relied  so  upon  you  to  manage  them,"  cried  Lady 
Hortense,  with  unpolitic  candor,  which,  though 
it  exalted,  also  annoyed  the  elder  lady. 


BE  WARS  i  103 

"You,  Hortense,  forgive  me,  child,  if  I  say 
that  you,  as  Sir  Philip  Camden's  wife,  should 
be  gaming  more  self-reliance.  You  do  not 
appreciate  your  exceptional  advantages,  I  am 
afraid,"  she  said,  with  subtle  rebuke. 

"I  am  afraid  not,"  conceded  her  daughter 
readily,  and,  with  a  queer  smile  upon  her  face. 
u  To  be  worldly  one  must  have  that  most  neces- 
sary of  all  incentives." 

"  What  ?  I  do  not  quite  follow  you,  my  dear," 
said  Mrs.  Ayers. 

"  I  say,  to  be  worldly  in  a  truly  scientific  way, 
one  must  have  that  most  necessary  of  all  incent- 
ives— ambition  !  I  am  not  ambitious,  mamma." 

Mrs.  Ayers  raised  her  white,  very  much  bejew- 
eled,  hand  deprecatingly. 

"  Not  ambitious  !"  she  repeated,  and  as  she 
spoke  there  was  a  visible  expansion  of  the  blue 
veins  about  her  temples.  "  You  tell  me  this  ? 
which  is  equivalent  to  saying,  *  I  am  indifferent 
as  to  the  position  which  I  have  achieved,  and 
which  might  render  any  other  woman's  life  an 
hourly  triumph.'  Your  assertion  is  exorbitant ! 
It  is  extravagant  almost  to  madness.  Are  you 
utterly  without  filial  feeling  ?  Is  your  stoicism 
so  intense  that  during  the  eleven  months  of  your 
married  life  you  have  not  roused  yourself  to  any 
sense  of  filial  gratitude  to  me  for  having  managed 
your  alliance  with  Sir  Philip  Camden  so  success- 
fully ?  " 


104  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

Her  daughter,  who  had  been  deftly  arranging 
the  tea  things,  looked  up  quickly,  and  now  hot 
tears  gathered  in  her  eyes,  while  her  lips  quivered 
uncontrolably,  as  she  said  : 

"Mamma,  as  Hortense  Ayers  was  I  always 
selfish,  obdurate,  stoical,  unfilial  ?  Did  you 
find  me  always  a  disappointing  child — one  want- 
ing in  every  sense  of  love  and  gratitude  to  you  ?" 

"  No,  no  ;  certainly  not  !  You  were  to  me  the 
embodiment  of  tenderness  and  love,  and  obedi- 
ence. Hortense,  you  were  the  one  incentive  of 
my  life  after  your  father  died.  My  every  ambi- 
tion was  centered  in  you  ;  that  was  why  I  played 
so  high  to  secure  your  future  welfare.  But 
now " 

"  Oh  !"  cried  Lady  Hortense,  suddenly  inter- 
rupting her,  "  You  will  never  know  how  very  far 
you  fell  of  your  mark,  mamma  !  You  planned  a 
blessing  and  there  has  sprung  from  it  a  curse  !" 

"  Think,"  pursued  Mrs.  Ayers,  pretending  not 
to  have  heard  her,  and  her  voice  sounded  again 
with  its  former  implacable  austerity;  "  think  how 
many  mothers  of  our  set  were  angling  for  the  po- 
sition which  I  secured  for  you ;  and  they  say 
that  pretty  Louise  Gardener's  decline  was  due 
chiefly  to  her  disappointment  in  love  —  yow 
remember  Sir  Philip  did  show  her  marked  atten- 
tion at  onetime." 

"  He  was  engaged  to  her,"  said  Lady  Hortense. 


BEWARE  I  105 

"  He  has  boastfully  told  me  of  the  cruel  way  in 
which  he  jilted  her." 

"  Yes  ?  Ah,  well,  my  dear,  there  are  such  ex- 
periences in  almost  every  life — romances  which 
in  the  end  amount  to  nothing." 

"  Nothing  ?  And  you  say  that  in  this  in- 
stance a  sweet,  young,  and  innocent  life  was 
sacrificed !  Oh,  mamma !"  Lady  Hortense's 
voice  was  full  of  unutterable  pain,  and  her  breath 
came  quickly  as  she  fixed  great  stricken  eyes 
upon  her  mother's  face. 

For  a  moment  Mrs.  Ayers  went  on  sipping  her 
tea  in  silence.  She  was  a  woman  of  diplomacy, 
and  that  she  had  for  once  forgotten  to  be  dis- 
creet in  her  argument  both  embarrassed  and 
vexed  her. 

She  looked  up  presently. 

"  I  did  not  say  that  Louise  actually  died  of  dis- 
appointment, Hortense.  /  do  not  think  she  could 
have  loved  him  to  such  an  extent.  /  think  the 
.immediate  cause  of  her  death  was  consumption. 
But  you  know,  my  dear,  that  in  all  such  affairs 
the  world  will  have  its  separate  and  various  con- 
ceptions. No,"  she  added,  "  I  am  quite  sure  the 
affaire  with  Sir  Philip  had  nothing  to  do,  virtu- 
ally, with  her  death.  She  did  not  love  him  to  that 
excess." 

"  Love  him  !  No.  I  do  not  think  that  Louise 
could  have  loved  Sir  Philip  Camden,"  her  daugh- 
ter said,  and  there  was  visible  revolt  in  her  tone. 


106  THE  BRIDE  OF  1XFELICE 

"No,  no,"  echoed  her  experienced  heart,  "she 
could  not  by  any  possible  chance  have  loved 
him." 

Mrs.  Ayers  noted  the  intonation  of  revolt,  and 
again  the  veins  on  her  temples  expanded.  She 
made  no  effort  now  to  repress  her  vexation,  but 
said  derisively : 

"  Why !  do  you  then  find  it  imposeible  to 
imagine  any  woman  as  being  in  love  with  the 
man  whom  you,  through  what  is  nothing  more 
nor  less  than  a  narrow-minded  prejudice,  have 
sealed  your  heart  against  ?  Your  creed  is 
malevolent  in  the  extreme,  and  becomes  at  once 
an  indignity  to  yourself  and  an  effrontery  to  the 
man  whose  name  you  bear.  Sir  Philip  Camden, 
knowing  the  exact  attitude  which  you  have 
assumed  toward  him,  would  hate  you  !  Beware, 
oh  Hortense,  Lady  Camden,  of  that  day  when 
you  find  yourself  an  object  of  antipathy  in  his 
eyes  !  When  a  man  of  his  stamp  hates,  he  hates 
with  a  vehemence  which  carries  virulent  poison 
in  its  fang." 

"  I  know.  I — for  months — I  have  felt  a  growing 
dread  of  the  future  ;  but  that  I  have  '  sealed  my 
heart  against  him,'  as  you  say,  is  not  true.  Night 
and  day  have  I  battled  against  my  heart's  cold- 
ness. Night  and  day  have  I  prayed  to  God  to 
change  me  toward  my  husband — to  give  me  a 
sense  of  wifely  interest,  of  duty,  of  respect,  but  no 
answer  has  been  granted  to  my  supplications. 


BEWARE!  107 

Each  day  we  are  drifting  further  apart,  and  I  am 
defenseless  against  whatever  may  come." 

There  was  little  sympathy  in  the  parent  face 
opposite  as  Lady  Hortense  concluded  thus  hope- 
lessly. Instead  of  bestowing  a  word  of  condolence 
in  behalf  of  her  child's  sorrow,  Mrs.  Aycrs  merely 
said,  after  a  few  moments  of  silence  which  were 
filled  up  with  the  other's  suppressed  sobs  : 

"  Your  face,  my  dear,  will  be  swollen  and  dis- 
figured. I  am  sure  you  have  pride  sufficient  to 
guard  you  against  letting  your  contretemps 
become  an  open  letter  to  the  world.  Hark  ! " 
she  said  suddenly,  "  I  hear  the  sound  of  sleigh- 
bells.  Some  of  your  guests  are  arriving  even 
now." 

Lady  Hortense  rose  quickly  and  looked  at 
her  watch. 

"Yes,"  she  cried  in  dismay,  "  it  is  half  past 
four.  Mamma,  you  must  go  down  and  receive 
them,  and  see  that  they  are  all  sHown  proper 
apartments.  But  kiss  me  before  you  go,  dearest, 
won't  you  ?  "  she  asked  suppliantly. 

What  parent  heart  could  refuse  such  a  pathetic 
appeal  as  that  of  Lady  Hortense  ? 

Mrs.  Ayers  bent  and  kissed  twice  the  upturned, 
almost  childish  face ;  but  her  cheek  coming  in 
such  close  contact  with  that  other  tear-moist  one, 
was  distasteful  to  her  sense  of  dignity,  and  as  she 
turned  away  and  descended  the  highly-polished 
stair-way,  along  which  floated  the  mingled  odor 


108  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

of  roses,  lilies-of-the-  valley,  jessamine  and  vari- 
ous other  kinds  of  redolent  blossoms  from  below, 
she  muttered  to  herself  those  words  of  Shakes- 
peare : 

How  sharper  than  a  serpent's  tooth  it  is  to  have  a  thankleM 
child  I 


CHAPTER  XIV 

AT   FESTAL   TIDE 

There  is  no  armor  against  Fate. 

— Shirely. 

A  blaze  of  myriad- tinted  lights  ;  a  blending  of 
many  subtle  perfumes  into  one  ecstatic  and  har- 
monious odor,  which  seemed  to  "swing  the  soul  on 
a  golden  thread  to  heaven";  a  swaying  of  deli- 
cious music  from  unknown  regions — music  which 
one  moment  throbbed  out  in  wildest  passion — 
laden  strains  of  melody,  now  trembled  aloft  in 
suppliant,  soul-reaching  pathos,  now  tranquilly 
declined  into  the  fragrance  from  which  it  seemed 
to  have  had  its  origin,  like  a  dying  whisper  of 
love. 

A  vast  canvas  gleamed  like  an  acre  of  polished 
Ceylon  ivory  on  the  floors  of  the  two  drawing- 
rooms,  which  had  been  thrown  into  one  grand  and 
spacious  apartment  to  serve  as  a  ball-room,  and 
immediately  beyond  which  the  large  banquet  hall 
was  partially  revealed  through  swaying  cur- 
tains of  jessamine  vine,  starred  with  their  own 
sweet,  pale  blossoms,  before  which  there  stood  a 
statue  of  Flora,  with  one  arm  uplifted  as  if  about 
to  part  the  trailing  draperies  asunder.  At  the 
other  extremity  of  the  ball-room, through  a  length- 
ening vista  of  tropical  plants  and  spraying 
(109) 


110  THE  BRIDE  OP  IN  FELICE 

fountains,  could  be  seen  the  dimly-fluctuating, 
star-like  lights  of  the  conservatories  ;  while  from 
the  wide  hall  at  the  right,  a  view  of  the  parlors 
could  be  had  through  the  high-arched  doorway, 
which  suite  had  also  been  thrown  into  one  large 
room  for  the  reception  of  Lady  Camden's  guests, 
and  were,  indeed,  as  Mrs.  Ayers  had  declared,  a 
"dream-like  conception  of  Elysium,"  with  their 
various  miniature  mounds  of  flowers,  flanked 
with  shining  greenery,  and  bowls  of  roses  resting 
at  the  feet  of  statuettes,  or  garnishing  the  silken 
draperies  in  loose  and  graceful  clusters. 

Lady  Camden  and  her  mother  stood  within  the 
arched  doorway  paying  homage  to  the  fast  in- 
gathering throng  of  guests,  who  already  filled  the 
rooms  to  their  comfortable  capacity. 

Beautiful  and  stately  as  a  young  queen  Lady 
Hortense  appeared  in  her  gleaming  robes  of  ame- 
thist  with  diamonds  encompassing  her  bare  arms 
and  throat,  which  was  white  and  graceful  as  that 
of  a  swan.  Her  wealth  of  blue-black  hair  was 
arranged  high,  according  to  the  fashion  of  the 
day,  and  pierced  with  a  diamond  poignard, —  a 
costly  bauble  which  Sir  Philip  had  given  her  dur- 
ing the  first  weeks  of  their  marriage,  when  they 
were  abroad. 

There  was  a  faint  tinge  of  color  upon  her  usu- 
ally pale  cheek,  and  just  enough  heightened 
brightness  in  the  soft,  dark  fathoms  of  her  eye  to 
render  her  loveliness  perfect.  The  cynosure  of 


AT  FESTAL  TIDE  111 

all  eyes,  the  secret  envy  of  many  a  selfish  heart, 
she  moved  hither  and  thither  among  the  assem- 
bled multitude,  lavishing  a  smile  here,  a  compli- 
ment there,  and  giving  the  world  the  impression 
that  she  was  the  most  completely  happy  woman 
in  all  Christendom,  when,  in  truth,  all  the  mag- 
nificence, the  pageantry,  the  dazzling  display  and 
glitter  combined  to  make  for  her  a  splendid  mar- 
tyrdom i.n  which  she  was  stifled  to  suffocation. 

"  Of  what  use  is  it  all  ?  "  she  asked  herself,  for 
the  hundredth  time,  as  she  let  her  glance  stray 
feverishly  over  that  intricate  mass  of  color  and 
rest  upon  a  large  screen,  which  concealed  the 
musicians  from  sight,  and  whose  roses  were  al- 
ready drooping  lifeless  under  the  strong  light 
which  fell  upon  them  from  a  chandelier.  She 
did  not  dream  that  after  a  little  time  the  same 
scene  which  she  now  secretly  loathed  in  her  heart 
would  be  transformed  into  one  whose  every  detail 
she  would  view  through  eyes  of  ecstasy. 

She  did  not  dream  how  near  she  was  standing 
to  the  threshold  of  that  realm  which  they  say  is 
woman's  true  estate,  and  that  one  glance  into  the 
enchanted  kingdom  would  seem  to  her  like  one 
scarcely  of  earthly  joy,  and  that 

As,  in  a  kind  of  holy  trance 
She'd  hang  above  those  fragrant  treasures, 
Bending  to  drink  their  balmy  airs 
As  if  she  mixed  her  soul  with  theirs. 
'Twould  be,  indeed,  the  perfume  shed 
From  flowers  and  scented  flame,  that  fed 
Her  charmed  life. 


112  THE  BRIDE  OF  IN  FELICE 

But  one  step  taken  into  that  strange  kingdom 
would  be  to  her  perilous  as  though  its  walks  were 
flanked  with  hissing  reptiles.  Yet  she  would 
enter  there.  Nearer  and  nearer  each  moment  she 
was  approaching  to  the  arena  of  Doom,  just  as  a 
bird  flits  through  the  sunshine  into  a  rose  bower, 
there  to  breathe  the  virulence  from  a  deadly 
night-shade  that  has  stealthily  crept  in  among 
the  blossoms  there. 

"  Are  not  the  Elwoods  to  be  among  us  to-night, 
Lady  Camden?"  questioned  a  tall,  soldierly-look- 
ing fellow  whom  she  had  paused  briefly  to  chat 
with,  and  whom  I  am  now  pleased  to  introduce 
as  Gershon  Carruthers,  Lieutenant  in  the  service 
of  the  United  States  Navy.  He  was  a  young  man 
still  on  the  sunny  side  of  thirty  years,  whose 
frank  blue  eyes  had  a  depth  of  tenderness  in  their 
light,  and  whose  tawny  hair  was  soft  and  crisp- 
curling  as  a  girl's.  While  not  strictly  handsome 
there  was  a  look  of  distinction  about  his  face 
which,  with  its  delightful  candor,  made  it  lovable, 
and  he  was  at  once  a  great  favorite  among  the 
fair  sex  and  popular  with  his  own. 

There  Was  a  little  tremor  of  anxiety  in  his  voice 
as  he  thus  addressed  his  hostess,  discerning 
which  Lady  Camden  smiled  to  herself. 

"  Yes,"  returned  she,  "  I  am  expecting  them 
with  others  at  any  moment.  They  were  to  come 
by  the  7:40  train." 

Even  as  she  spoke,  there  was  a  sound  of  sleigh 


AT  FESTAL  TIDE  113 

bells  without,  and,  after  a  short  interval,  the  late 
arrivals  made  their  way  through  the  great  hall, 
which  was  thronged  with  gentlemen,  and  passed 
upstairs  to  the  dressing  rooms.  At  the  end  of 
half  an  hour  they  began  to  pass  in  through  the 
arched  doorway  and  to  mingle  with  the  multitude. 

Colonel  Elwood  and  his  wife,  Thayer  Volney, 
and  his  lovely  cousin,  Valois,  were  among -the  last 
to  pass  into  the  presence  of  their  hostess. 

"  Lady  Camden,  Mrs.  Ayers,  I  have  the  honor 
to  present  to  you  my  nephew,  Mr.  Thayer  Volney 
of  England,"  spoke  the  colonel,  in  his  deep,  clear 
tones. 

With  a  slight  backward  movement  of  her 
proudly-poised  head,  Lady  Camden  raised  her 
eyes  and  met  his  glance.  Had  the  Parian  image 
of  Glaucus,  the  Athenian,  come  to  life,  and 
stepped  down  from  the  mantel  to  confront  her  ? 
No,  no,  such  a  miracle  had  not  been  wrought, 
surely  !  Then  what  was  here  ?  Was  she  swoon- 
ing away  from  all  the  light  and  heavy  fragrance, 
and  was  that  face  an  apparition,  shaped  from  out 
the  lengthening  depths  of  oblivion,  to  haunt  her 
as  it  had  so  oft  before  haunted  her  in  her  dreams  ? 
If  not  this,  then  had  he,  her  hero,  the  brave  man 
whose  courage  had  savei  her  life,  crossed  her 
path  again,  to  stand  before  her,  a  form  of  breath- 
ing flesh  and  not  of  dream-ideality  ?  Oh  joy  I 
oh  ecstasy  ! 

Oh  Fate  !  thou  art  so  false,  so  deceptive,  oft- 


114  THE  BRIDE  OE  INFELICE 

times  in  thy  garb  !  Thou  comest  now,  with  thy 
dread  ordination  concealed  behind  a  mask  of  such 
heaven-like  loveliness  !  And  the  lights  are  jew- 
els scintillating  in  a  million  beauteous  rays  ;  and 
the  dew  on  the  flowers  is  pearls ;  and  the  fra- 
grance which  floats  from  them  is  a  breath  that 
comes  from  Elysian  fields  !  Who  would  wish  to 
shrink  from  a  decree  as  sweet  and  intoxicating  as 
this? 

"Mr.  Volney,  I  am  indebted  to  Colonel  and 
Mrs.  Elwood  and  to  our  dear  Valois  for  the  pleas- 
ure of  knowing  you,"  the  words  came  at  length, 
and  they  were  low  and  composed  ;  but  the  little 
hand  which  Thayer  took  and  pressed  for  a  mo- 
ment in  his  own,  was  cold  and  trembled  like  a 
hurt  bird. 

"  I, "  Lady  Hortense  added,  as  she  turned  with 
an  enforced  smile  of  apology  toward  the  little 
circle,  who,  in  some  concern,  had  noted  her  brief 
agitation,  "  I  fear  there  is  scarcely  enough  venti- 
lation in  these  crowded  rooms.  I  felt  for  an 
instant  a  slight  sense  of  dizziness.  It  is  gone  now. 
Yes,  Valois,  dear,"  in  answer  to  a  hurriedly 
whispered  question  from  the  excited  girl.  "  He 
is  here.  I  see  him  making  his  way  toward  you 
now.  Yes,  Sir  Philip,  the  dance  may  as  well  be- 
gin at  once  ;  everybody  is  here." 

Sir  Philip  had  been  standing  at  a  short  space 
apart  from  his  wife,  and  had  not  failed  to  note  her 
every  expression  when  she  was  introduced  to  the 


AT  FESTAL  TIDE  115 

handsome  young  Englishman.  Lady  Hortense, 
however,  was  not  aware  of  this.  She  did  not 
glance  upward  into  his  face  as  she  spoke  ;  had 
she  done  so  she  might  have  seen  a  threatening 
basilisk  lurking  there.  She  took  his  arm  and 
they  led  the  way  to  the  ball  room  as  the  initia- 
tory measures  of  the  march  floated  in  to  them. 

As  they  threaded  their  way  through  the  laugh- 
ing, fluttering,  expectant  crowd,  she  caught  a 
glimpse  of  Thayer  Volney,  as  he  bent  over  her 
lovely  young  friend  Alice,  in  what  seemed  to  her 
to  be  the  devotion  of  a  lover. 

What  was  there  in  the  sight  that  made  her  lift 
her  hand  with  a  sudden  spasmodic  movement  to 
her  heart  as  though  it  had  burst  one  of  its  fibres 
and  were  bleeding  ?  • 


CHAPTER   XV 

THE   BREAKERS   THREATEN 

And  love  ?    .    .    . 

What  was  love  then?  ....  not  calm,  scarcely  kind  — 
But  in  one  all  intensest  emotions  combined  : 
Life  and  death:  pain  and  rapture. 

"  Luclle  "-Omen  Meredith. 

«TT  7HO  is  the  pretty  girl  in  white  with  whom 
VV  your  nephew  has  just  danced,  Mrs.  El- 
wood  ?  "  questioned  a  young  brunette,  resplend-  < 
ent  in  maize  crepe,  a  little  later  in  the  evening. 
The  speaker  was  by  birth  a  Creole  who,  seven 
years  previous  to  the  opening  of  our  story,  had 
been  brought  to  America  by  one  Mr  Rossmore, 
an  Englishman  of  vast  wealth,  who  had  claimed 
the  beautiful  Dorian  de  Joules  as  his  adopted 
ward  and  two  years  later  had  married  her. 

Although  their  advent  to  the  New  England 
metropolis  had  been  unattended  by  testimonial 
bearings  of  any  kind,  by  subtle  ingenuite  Mrs. 
Rossmore  had  succeeded  in  gaining  for  herself 
and  husband  a  passport  into  the  elite  circles  of 
the  "  Hub,"  and  ere  she  had  moved  therein  half 
a  season  she  had  attained  to  an  acknowledged 
belleship,  at  which  throne  men  worshipped  and 
women  bowed  in  smiling  patronage. 

(116) 


THE  BREA  KERS  THREA  TEN  1 1 7 

The  fashionable  world  followed  in  the  footsteps 
of  Dorian  Rossmore.  Her  rare  elegance  of  per- 
son, combined  with  a  perfect  propriety  of  conduct, 
and  the  fact  that  she  was  fast  anchored  upon  the 
sea  of  matrimony  made  her  a  considered  model 
which  mothers  established  before  their  daughters, 
and  they  accepted  without  fear  of  finding  in  her 
an  object  of  rivalry  in  affaires  d' 'amour. 

But  her  husband  !  Every  one  marvelled  how  so 
peerless  a  creature  as  Dorian  could  have  linked 
her  fate  with  a  maSi  so  distressingly  ugly  ! 

In  stature  Mr.  Rossmore  was  low,  almost  to 
dwarfishness.  He  had  little  blue  beads  for  eyes  ; 
he  had  straw-colored  hair,  and  beard  and  eye- 
brows ;  he  had  a  florid  complexion  shot  with  pit- 
marks,  and  two  rows  of  little  sharp  teeth  like 
those  of  a  hyena,  and  large  ears.  Oh,  Martin 
Rossmore  was  "  distressingly  ugly  !  " 

But  Dorian  seemed  to  dote  on  him,  and  he  fol- 
lowed her  everywhere  like  a  devoted  spaniel,  and 
was  content  to  sit  in  a  corner  of  the  ball-room 
dozing,  with  his  chin  resting  upon  his  be-dia- 
monded  chest,  and  a  letter  A  formed  of  his  fore- 
fingers and  thumbs,  whilst  she  waltzed  to  her 
heart's  satisfaction.  Content  to  sit  at  dinner  next 
to  her  bare  and  gleaming  shoulders,  sipping  his 
champagne  or  claret,  and  admiringly  listening  to 
her  brilliant  repartee  as  she  conversed  with  Major 
McCaulif,  or  Percy  Delnorte,  or  young  Fred  Bent- 
well,  who  was  just  fresh  from  Yale  and  who  lived 


118  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICK 

in  a  state  of  spiritual  ecstasy  if  she  smiled  once 
upon  him  during  an  evening,  or  gave  him  a  glance 
of  approval  from  her  gazelle-like  Eastern  eyes. 

But  there  came  a  time  when  no  more  the  form 
of  Martin  Rossmore  lingered  near  Dorian  ;  when 
no  more  she  felt  protection  in  the  name  of  hus- 
band. 

Two  years  after  their  union  the  queer  little  man 
was  stricken  suddenly  with  paralysis  and  never 
rallied  from  the  attack. 

Poor  Dorian,  —  beautiful,  '  young,  talented, 
wealthy  Dorian — was  left  stranded  alone  upon  the 
isle  of  widowhood ! 

For  some  months  she  buried  herself  from  the 
world  entirely  as  though  it  had  never  known  her. 
Then,  at  intervals,  just  a  glimpse  was  to  be  had 
of  her  face,  which  shone  like  a  languishing  flower 
behind  the  sweeping  drapery  of  sable  which 
always  enshrouded  it.  Thus  a  year  of  her  bereave- 
ment passed,  after  which  period  Dorian  reluctant- 
ly persuaded  herself  that  grief  was  undermining 
her  health  and  she  must  abandon  the  burden  of 
the  black  veil  and  her  cloistral  apartments,  which 
were  filled  with  memories  of  her  dear  departed, 
and  once  more  seek  the  sunshine  of  the  world. 

So  over  the  threshold  of  the  great  arena  she 
again  made  her  way,  timidly  at  first,  so  timidly, 
indeed,  that  fathers  of  daughters,  and  sons,  the 
chosen  of  ambitious  mothers,  came  forward  in 
sympathy  to  offer  her  protection  and,  courtesy. 


THE  BREAKERS  THREATEN  119 

She  was  more  splendidly  beautiful  than  ever  in 
her  new  advent ;  and  gradually  it  came  to  pass 
that  women,  seeing  her  in  all  the  charms  of  eli- 
gibility, began  to  look  upon  her  with  eyes  of  jeal- 
ousy and  secret  malevolence.  Her  manner,  at 
first  half  shy  and  reserved,  soon  became  gay  and 
vivacious,  as  of  old.  Her  repartee  flashed  with 
the  wit  and  spirit  inherited  from  her  native  coun- 
try. Her  hair  was  black  as  Erebus.  Her  eyes 
were  limpid  and  dark  as  those  of  a  gazelle  and 
bright  as  African  diamonds.  Her  skin  was  trans- 
parent and  soft  as  damask.  Men  had  always 
known  this,  but  women  had  overlooked  the  full 
value  of  her  charms,  because  of  yore  they  gave 
no  hint  of  rivalry;  she  was  married.  But  this 
splendid  creature  who  had  stepped  from  widow's 
weeds  and  dull  jet  into  maize  crepe  and  diamonds, 
who  revealed  eburnean  shoulders  and  arms  so 
daringly,  who  flashed  the  dark  brilliance  of  her 
eyes  into  men's  faces  so  boldly,  who  sang  so 
divinely,  and  threw  open  her  mouth  so  wide  when 
she  laughed  that  the  white  soundness  and  even- 
ness of  her  teeth  and  contrasting  pink  of  her  gums 
might  be  fully  appreciated — oh,  they  hated  her  ! 
and  Dorian,  divining  their  jealous  enmity,  was 
sorely  pleased  and  did  cry  out  in  very  exultation: 

"  Such  joy  ambition  finds  !  " 

But  to  return  to  the  question  with  which  this 
chapter  opened  : 

"  Who  is  the  pretty  girl  in  white,  with  whom 


120  THE  BRIDE  OF  IX FELICE 

your  nephew  has  just  danced,  Mrs.  El  wood  ?  " 

"  It  is  Alice  Meredith.  How  very  happy  she 
looks  to-night,  and  how  becomingly,  yet  simply 
dressed.  You  must  remember  her,  Mrs.  Ross- 
more  ;  she  made  her  debut  with  Valois  at  Mrs. 
Carruthers'  ball,  last  August.  You  were  there." 

"  You  mean — of  course  you  mean  Robert  Mere- 
dith's daughter  ?  " 

Mrs.  Elwood  assented. 

"  But  he  has  recently  gone  into  bankruptcy  !  " 
whispered  Dorian.  "  How  is  it,"  she  asked,  "  that 
the  young  lady  still  has  an  entree  to  our  circles  ?" 

Her  tone  was  incredulous  and  flavored  with  a 
hauteur  which  stung  the  other  to  reply  : 

"It  is  a  happy  exception  to  the  rule.  Though 
adversity  has  dealt  sternly  with  Mr.  Meredith, 
his  daughter  has  been  spared  that  penalty  to 
which  the  prejudiced  world  commonly  consigns 
his  luckless  kind.  A  few  who  in  the  young  lady's 
time  of  prosperity  patronized  and  professed  to 
admire  her,  have  proven  true  to  their  creed  ;  and 
she  herself  is  not  ashamed  to  lift  her  head  above 
the  mire  in  which,  ah  me  !  how  many  would  love 
to  see  her  grovelling." 

A  faint  tinge  of  red  dyed  for  a  moment  the 
transparent  beauty  of  Dorian  Rossmore's  face  ; 
but  above  this  the  disdainful  curve  of  her  lip  was 
still  painfully  apparent,  as,  with  a  feigned  air  of 
apology,  she  went  on  arguing  in  her  own  defense  : 

"  But  yet,  you  know,  my  dear  Mrs.  Elwood, 


THE  BREA  KERS  THREA  TEN  121 

that  money  is  the  vital  principle  of  social  law  !  " 

"  I  admit  the  logic  of  your  argument,  but  it  is 
governed  entirely  by  the  individual." 

Again  Dorian's  colorless  beauty  was  gently  dis- 
turbed. She  dexterously  evaded  the  thrust, 
however,  for,  just  at  that  moment,  Thayer  Volney 
passed  them  with  the  beautiful  Lady  Camden  on 
his  arm. 

"  Ah  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Rossmore  in  breath- 
less admiration,  "don't  they  make  a  picture? 
What  a  truly  exceptional  couple,  indeed!  he  light? 
like  a  Grecian  god,  and  she  so  dark  and  queenly  ! 
Mrs.  Elwood,  isn't  it  really  such  a  pity  that  Sir 
Philip  Camden  is  not  himself  better  looking  ? 
They  seem  ill-matched,  don't  you  think  so  ?  but 
then  position — ah !  is  this  our  waltz,  Mr.  Bent' 
well?" 

Very  glad  to  be  relieved  of  the  maize  crepe,  Mrs. 
Elwood,  upon  being  left  alone,  began  an  eager 
survey  of  the  ball-room  to  see  if  Valois  was 
among  the  dancers  ;  look  as  she  would,  though, 
over  that  wide  sea  of  kaleidoscopic  color  there 
was  no  shorn,  curly-black  head  visible. 

"  My  dear  Mrs;  Elwood,"  said  the  voice  of  Mrs. 
Ayers  beside  her  suddenly.  "  I  have  been  search- 
ing for  you  everywhere.  I  want  to  show  you  the 
conservatories.  My  daughter  has  just  received  a 
collection  of  very  rare  plants  from  India,  and, 
knowing  you  to  be  such  a  botanist,  I  have  been 
anxious  for  you  to  see  them.  Come  !  " 


122  THE  BRIDE  OF  IXFELICE 

Mrs.  Elwood  rose  and  the  two  sauntered  toward 
the  dim-lit  cloisters. 

They  were  passing  close  to  a  fragrant  spraying 
fountain  when,  chancing  to  glance  beyond  the 
crystalline  columns,  to  where  a  noble  camelia 
spread  forth  its  starred  branches,  Mrs.  Elwood 
espied,  by  the  rays  which  fell  from  a  pale  light 
above,  the  glitter  of  a  frost-white  dress,  and  in 
very  close  proximity  to  this,  the  outline  of  a 
man's  form.  As  she  continued  to  gaze  toward  the 
spot,  half  doubting,  half  convinced,  a  subdued, 
love-like  murmur  of  voices  came  to  her  ;  when, 
with  something  very  like  a  throb  of  pain,  she 
whispered  to  herself : 

"It  is  my  baby  Valois  and  Lieutenant  Car- 
ruthers  !  " 

Meanwhile  measure  upon  measure  of  the  waltz 
rose  and  fell,  and  the  dancers  glided  on  light- 
winged  feet  to  its  inspiring  strains — strains  which 
at  length  were  destined  to  melt  away,  as  all  that 
is  ecstacy  must  melt  after  an  ephemeral  season 
— as  Lady  Hortense's  rapture  melted  when  she 
found  herself  abruptly,  cruelly  transported  back 
to  earth  from  that  beautiful  dream-land  through 
which  she  had  madly  suffered  herself  to  stray, 
forgetful  of  all  living  things  save  him,  her  partner, 
Thayer  Volney. 

A  few  moments  later,  when  the  "current 
offered  "  for  her  to  shrink  away,  unnoticed,  from 
the  crowd,  and  she  stood  alone  within  the  deep 


THE  BREAKERS  THREATEN  123 

recess  of  a  window  which  had  been  ingeniously 
converted  into  a  kind  of  lover's  cloister  by  the 
aid  of  miniature  palms  and  various  flowering 
exotics,  and  in  whose  high  blue  ceiling  one  single 
star-light  light  fluctuated,  giving  a  tone  of  life  to 
the  bower,  she  looked  out  upon  the  night's  sanc- 
tified beauty  with  a  happiness  such  as  she  had 
never  dreamed  of  awake  within  her  soul,  filling 
its  citadel  with  those  strange  sounds  of  which 
poets  write  and  music  breathes. 

"  Oh  I"  cried  she  passionately,  "  if  I  could  only 
die  now,  at  this  very  moment,  while  this  heavenly 
trance  endures  !  Oh,  guiltily,  I  know,  the  medi- 
um through  which  this  soul-consuming  ecstasy 
has  been  wrought  !  But — oh  God  !  the  sense 
which  follows  now  and  bids  me  die,  not  of  living 
rapture,  as  I  should  love  to  die,  but  the  slow- 
grinding  death  of  despair !" 

She  trembled  from  head  to  foot,  and  an  icy 
dampness  broke  out  upon  her  brow.  She  caught 
dizzily  at  the  window  'casement  to  keep  herself 
from  falling,  and  gradually  she  succeeded  in  mas- 
tering the  dread  sensation.  Then  came  a  reac- 
tion, when  hot,  bitter  tears  fell  from  her  eyes  un- 
checked. There  was  no  one  to  witness  her  emo- 
tion. Why  should  she  not  give  full  vent  to  them 
if  tears  could  in  any  degree  assuage  that  travail 
of  woe  ?  When  the  paroxysm  had  spent  itself 
she  buried  her  face  in  her  hands,  and  prayed  the 
most  fervent  prayer  of  her  lifetime  : 


124  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

"  Dear  God  !  help,  oh  help  me  to  be  stronger  : 
Oh  look  into  my  soul  to-night  and  see  what  is 
there  that  is  vile !  I  have  offended  Thee,  O 
God  !  but  why  didst  Thou  send  him  into  my  ru- 
ined life  !  Help  me  to  be  strong  !  Help  me  to 
be  loyal  to  myself  and  to  Thee  !" 

As  she  lifted  her  head  there  was  a  slight  rustle 
of  the  portieres,  and  she  heard  a  voice  saying  : 

"  Lady  Camden,  I  have  brought  you  an  ice. 
May  I  'come  in  ?  " 

She  turned  quickly,  and  herself  parted  the 
silken  draperies,  bidding  him  enter. 

"How  did  you  divine  my  whereabouts,  Mr. 
Volney  ? "  she  asked,  smiling  calmly  into  the 
fair,  perfect  face  before  her. 

"  Miss  Meredith  suggested  your  hiding  place, 
after  I  had  spent- some  moments  in  a  futile  search 
for  you.  Really,  this  ice  is  half  melted.  Lady 
Camden  ;  let  me  bring  you  another." 

"  No ;  indeed  no  ;"  she  gently  but  firmly  pro- 
tested, "  I  quite  prefer  this." 

"  What  a  fairy-like  bower  is  this  I  In  truth, 
how  beautiful  are  all  your  rooms,  Lady  Camden. 
I  am  told  you  were  the  chief  artist  in  arranging 
the  decorations,"  he  said,  as,  in  compliance  with 
her  invitation,  he  seated  himself  on  the  low  otto- 
man opposite  her. 

She  acknowledged  his  compliment  with  a 
pleased  smile.  Then  said  : 


THE  BREAKERS  THREATEN  125 

"  This  is  your  first  American  ball,  I  believe, 
Mr.  Volney." 

"Yes,  and  aside  from  that,  you  have  honored 
me  by  commemorating  the  date  of  my  departure 
from  England.  I  left  my  native  shores  just  two 
months  ago  to-day." 

"  If  in  that  I  have  been  the  means  of  according 
to  you  a  small  degree  of  pleasure,  I  am  gratified. 
I  would  in  some  little  measure  compensate  you 
for  that  morning's  perilous  venture  in  my  behalf." 

He  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"I was  not  certain  that  you  had  recognized 
me,"  he  said  at  length,  and  with  obvious  confu- 
sion. 

•  "  Recognized  you  !"  she  reiterated  quickly. 
"  Think  you  then  I  could  so  easily  forget  a  face 
associated  as  yours  was,  with  a  moment  dreadful 
as  was  thatf" 

He  shuddered  involuntarily. 

"It  was  a  dreadful,  a  horrible  moment,  with 
so  young  and  so  beautiful  a  life  as  yours,  Lady 
Carnden,  at  the  mercy  of  those  mad  beasts.  Let 
us  not  dwell  upon  it." 

"We  will  not  recur  to  it,"  ehe  said  quickly. 
"  I  would  not  have  your  pleasure  to-night  marred 
in  the  slightest  way  ;  and  you  must  not  let  me 
detain  you  here  a  moment  longer  to  the  sacrifice 
of  that  waltz." 

He  started  guiltily.  How  could  he  have  for- 
gotten his  engagement  to  dance  with  Alice  Mere- 


126  THE  BRIDE  OF  1NFELICE 

dith  ?  What  an  unpardonable  offense  to  have 
kept  her  waiting  through  one  measure  I 

Lady  Hortense,  noting  his  discomfiture,  rose, 
and  they  left  the  alcove  together.  They  had 
proceeded  but  a  few  steps  when  Sir  Philip  inter- 
cepted them. 

He  said  something  in  an  undertone  to  his  wife, 
who,  with  a  conventional  bow  to  the  young  Eng- 
lishman, accepted  his  arm,  and  they  joined  the 
circle  of  waltzers. 

"  Why,"  panted  Sir  Philip,  as  they  turned  to 
walk,  after  one  round  [Sir  Philip  was  a  man  who 
merely  danced  because  it  was  fashionable  to 
dance,  and  not  because  he  enjoyed  it,]  "  why  did 
you  not  sit  out  the  entire  dance  with  Volney,  in 
— a — what  you  are  pleased  to  term  your  lovers' 
bower  ?  How  very  adroitly  you  managed  your 
tete-a-tete  ! " 

11  There  was  no  'management '  of  the  tete  a-tete, 
as  you  vulgarly  put  it.  I  simply  sought  in  the 
alcove  a  moment  of  solitude  which  I  felt  in  need 
of.  Mr.  Volney  brought  me  an  ice  there,  and  we 
chatted  briefly,  as  was  only  natural  we  should  do." 

"  Admit,  however,  in  justice  to  him,  that  he  is 
agreeable  company  ?  " 

"  He  certainly  is  agreeable  company." 

"  And  also  that  he  is  handsome — forsooth 
handsome  as  your  Athenian  idol,  Glaucus,  eh  ?  " 
with  a  fiendish  chuckle. 

She  paled  to  the  very  lips  ;  but  flaLhing  him  a 


THE  BREAKERS  THREATEN  127 

look  of  haughty  defiance  from  her  splendid  eyes, 
she  said,  with  a  composure  which  maddened  him  : 

"  I  concede  ;  he  is,  as  I  heard  you  gay  the 
other  night,  like  a  Greek  god  !  " 

His  low  laugh,  demon-like  in  its  forced  mirth- 
lessness,  made  a  shiver  of  revulsion  thrill  through 
Lady  Camden's  veins.  She  made  a  movement  as 
if  to  withdraw  her  hand  from  his  arm  ;  but, 
divining  her  intention,  he  pressed  the  member 
tightly  to  his  side  and  only  laughed  the  more. 

"Ah,"  he  mentally  congratulated  himself,  "I 
am  making  her  hate  me  !  I  have  sworn  that  I 
would.  I  will  have  no  '  cool  medium  '  by  heaven  ! 
— A — Mrs.  Rossmore,  remember  the  next  quad- 
rille is  mine,"  he  said  with  a  sudden  charming 
courteousness  to  that  lady  who  at  that  moment 
passed  them  leaning  upon  the  arm  of  Mr.  Bent- 
well,  whom  she  had  kept  alternately  in  heaven 
and  torment  ever  since  she  had  left  off  her 
widow's  weeds. 

"To  my  taste,  that  is  the  most  fascinating 
woman  in  the  ball-room,"  observed  Sir  Philip  to 
his  wife,  as  Dorian,  with  a  smile  and  nod  of 
acquiescence,  passed  on. 

"That  adventuress!"  exclaimed  Lady  Cam- 
den  with  a  contemptuousness  which  she  could 
not  suppress. 

"  She  is  chic  ;  she  is  bubbling  over  with  orig- 
inal wit  and  spirit ;  she  is  the  sort  that  men  like 
and  admire,"  said  Sir  Philip. 


128  THE  BRIDE  OF  IXFELICE 

"  Some  men — yes,"  conceded  his  wife  with  an 
eloquent  shrug  of  her  bare,  white  shoulders. 

"  Oh,  there  are  exceptions,  of  course  ;  a — Mr. 
Volney,  for  example  !  he  would  prefer  some  one 
more  en  rapport  with  his  own  statue-like  beauty. 
Alice  Meredith's  spirituelle  face  has  palpable 
attraction  for  him." 

Lady  Hortense  felt  a  convulsion  about  the 
fibres  of  her  heart,  but  hushing  her  pain  with  an 
inward  voice,  she  managed  to  answer  him  calmly: 

"Alice  Meredith  is  designed  to  attract  the 
superior  caste  of  men  ;  and  to  admire  her,  one 
must  be  ambitious." 

R  Why  do  you  so  set  her  above  the  ordinary 
element  ?  "  asked  Sir  Philip,  derisively. 

"  Why  do  I  ?  Because  of  •  er  legitimate  claim 
to  all  that  is  pure  and  beautiful  in  wonlanhood." 

"  Pah  !  The  embodiment  of  virtue  and  beauty 
is  well  enough  to  wrap  in  a  tunic  and  set  upon  a 
pedestal  for  artists  to  look  at ;  but  publicity  con- 
taminates the  qualities.  As  a  'goddess  of  purity' 
Miss  Meredith's  legitimate  position  is  not  in  the 
ball-room,  allow  me  to  suggest." 

There  was  a  significant  sneer  in  his  last  words 
which  prompted  Lady  Hortense  to  again  turn 
her  flashing  eyes  upon  him.  Her  lips  were  parted 
to  frame  some  response,  but  they  were  passing  the 
hall  door,  and  some  one  called  Sir  Philip's 
name. 


THE  BREAKERS  THREATEN  129 

He  turned  to  see  hia  valet  standing  in  the 
passage  with  a  world  of  meaning  in  his  eyes. 

"  I  will  see  you  directly,  Tate,"  he  said  in  an 
undertone  to  the  man,  and  leading  his  wife  to  a 
seat,  he  hurriedly  quitted  the  ball-room. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

DEAD    SEA-  FRUIT 

A  man  may  fish  with  the  worm  that  hath  eat  of  a  king, 
And  eat  of  the  flsh  that  hath  fed  of  that  worm. 

—  Shakespeare. 


uTIfELL,  what  news,  Tale,"   questioned  the 
VV      master  of  Maplehurst,  when  at  a  signal, 
his  valet  had  followed  him  to  a  chamber  remote 
from  the  festive  rooms. 

"  I  have  been  watching  at  the  outer  gates  as 
you  bade  me,  Sir  Philip,  and  have  brought  you 
some  intelligence,"  replied  the  man  significantly. 

"Speak  quickly  then,"  demanded  Sir  Philip, 
"  I  cannot  remain  long  away  from  my  guests." 

"  Just  as  the  moon  rose,  about  half  an  hour 
ago,  I  saw  a  horseman  gallop  into  a  thicket  of 
scrub  pine  about  fifty  yards  from  the  river  bank, 
and  dismount. 

"After  securing  his  horse  well  within  the  shadows 
of  the  trees,  he  commenced  to  creep  slowly  and 
cautiously  toward  the  gates.  I  concealed  myself 
in  the  shrubberies  near  by  and  allowed  him  to 
pass  through  them,  then  followed  at  a  safe  dis- 
tance as  he  made  his  way  toward  the  castle  walls. 
I  saw  him  approach  one  of  the  windows  of  the 
back  drawing-room,  whose  curtains  were  half 
(130) 


DEAD  SEA-FRUIT  131 

drawn,  and  gaze  within  ;  as  he  did  so  I  heard 
him  mutter  aloud  these  words  : 

"  'Sir  Philip  Camden,  right  royally  do  you 
entertain !  right  noble  and  grand-looking  is  the 
gentry  gathered  within  your  castle  halh  to-night! 
Such  pomp,  I  imagine,  is  seldom  seen  in  the  gay 
world  this  side  the  Atlantic.  But  beware,  oh  Sir 
Philip  Camden — '  I  noticed  that  he  laid  a  pecu- 
liar emphasis  on  your  name  each  time  he  pro- 
nounced it — '  Your  season  of  triumph  is  in  its 
declining  days.  By  heaven  !  I  will  tear  the  mask 
from  your  face  and  reveal  all  those  foul  colors 
lying  beneath  it  to  the  world,  which  you  have  so 
long  swindled  !  Either  will  I  declare  you,  or  you 
shalj  henceforth  pave  my  way  as  you  have  paved 
your  own  through  the  gilded  labyrinths  of  so- 
ciety.' " 

"Well,  is  that  all?"  asked  Sir  Philip  com. 
placently,  as  the  man  paused.  "  By  the  powers! 
it  is  an  interesting  legend!  "  he  exclaimed,  coolly 
lighting  a  cigar  at  the  low  candelabra.  "  Ha  ! 
ha  !  '  the  gilded  labyrinths  of  society '  is  a  pretty 
phrase  !  (puff).  Go  on." 

"As  he  continued  to  look  into  the  apartment, 
still  muttering  his  maledictions,"  resumed  Tate, 
"  I  stepped  silently  up  behind  him.  '  Who  are 
you,'  said  I,  'that  you  steal  about  like  a  cur  to 
spy  upon  and  menace  my  master  ? '  He  turned 
upon  me  a  face  of  sneering  defiance  :  '  If  you  are 
a  servant  of  Sir  Philip  Camden,'  said  he,  '  I  warn 


132  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

you,  my  friend,  be  not  so  bold  ;  for  Philip,  your 
master,  is  bought  and  sold.'  " 

Sir  Philip  laughed  again. 

"  A  ranter  of  Shakespeare,"  he  observed.  "Pur- 
sue, my  good  Tate,  pursue,"  he  then  said,  contin- 
uing to  puff  at  his  cigar. 

"  I  called  him  a  madman,  whereupon  he  again 
sneered  at  me. 

"•'  If  I  am  mad,  then,'  said  he,  '  out  of  human- 
ity befriend  me.  Go  to  Sir  Philip  with  a  mad- 
man's appeal.  Hand  him  this,  and  return  to  me 
with  his  answer.'  " 

With  this,  Tate  took  from  his  inner  vest  pocket 
a  closely  folded  piece  of  paper.  He  handed  this 
to  the  master  of  Maplehurst,  and  stood  by,  watch- 
ing his  face  as  he  opened  and  read  it ;  but  he  saw 
no  sign  of  disturbance  there. 

Sir  Philip's  features  were  without  a  quiver  as 
he  traced  the  lines  which  ran  : 

"M.  Alphonse  Favraud,  late  of  Paris,  presents  his 
compliments  to  Sir  Philip  Camden,  and  prays  his  honor 
for  an  early  interview,  to-night." 

He  even,  after  assuring  himself  that  there  was 
nothing  compromising  to  himself  in  the  three 
lines,  read  them  aloud,  omitting  the  name,  sim 
ply.  which  headed  them  ;  then  igniting  the  paper 
at  the  candelabra,  he  stamped  the  burning  par- 
ticle under  his  faultlessly  slippered  foot,  with  the 
deliberation  that  he  would  have  used  in  stamping 
the  life  out  of  a  ground  spider  or  a  caterpillar. 


DEAD  SEA-FRUIT  133 

"  Go  to  this — a — fool,"  said  he,  "  and,  inasmuch 
as  he  simulates  Shakespeare,  say  that  I  am  '  not 
in  the  vein*  for  granting  him  an  interview  to- 
night, nor  yet  for  several  nights.  Hasten  now> 
and  do  you  make  the  premises  well  rid  of  him  at 
once." 

"  But,  Sir  Philip,  his  threats  ?  He  may  make 
a  scene.  His  face  is  full  of  evil  purpose.  I  like 
it  not." 

"  Threats  be !  A  toothless  cur  can  threat- 
en with  its  bark.  Don't  be  a  sop.  Be  gone  and 
do  my  bidding — yet,  stay  !  a — you  might  add 
that  if  he  chooses  to  come  to  me  on  some  night 
during  next  week,  say  Thursday,  at  this  hour,  I 
will  be  at  his  service." 

"  Ah  !  that  would  imply  some  little  fear  of  his 
bite,  despite  your  indifference,"  observed  the  man 
to  himself  as  the  door  closed  him  from  his  mas- 
ter's presence. 

No  sooner  was  Sir  Philip  .left  alone  than  he 
tossed  aside  his  cigar  and  placed  his  hand  to  his 
throat,  as  if  he  might  have  felt  there  an  uncom- 
fortable tightness.  Then  all  his  latent  furies 
burst  forth  to  defile  the  silence  which  brooded 
there. 

"  Curse  him  !  Curse  him  !"  hissed  this,  now, 
demon  man,  as  he  paced  the  floor,  with  breast 
convulsed,  and  eyes  emitting  venom's  own  lurid 
flame.  "  I  would  I  could  sear  his  soul  with  the 
brimstone  of  my  curses  !  He  threatens.  Oh  des- 


134  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICS 

picable  consequence  that  be  should  live  to  spy 
upon  and  threaten  me  !  Oh  loathsome  worm  ! 
would  that  I  had  seen  him  in  his  grave-shroud 
ere  turning  my  face  from  Europe  ;  then  my  fu- 
ture would  have  been  secure,  while  now  it  stands 
on  thin  ice.  Curse  him  !  he  lives  to  bring  back 
the  dead  and  rotten  sea  fruit  from  those  forgotten 
shores,  to  cast  upon  my  proud  estate  for  its  con- 
tamination !  He  shall  not !  I  will  baffle  him  in 
his  accursed  purpose,  by  heaven,  I  swear  it ! 
I " 

Here  his  frenzied  soliloquy  ceased  suddenly  as 
there  came  the  sound  of  footsteps  in  the  corridor 
without.  The  next  instant  his  body-servant  re- 
entered  the  room. 

"  The  man  has  gone,  Sir  Philip.  He  sent  you 
this." 

His  master  read  the  one  scrawled  pencil  line, 
which  ran  thus  : 

"  Look  for  me  promptly  at  11  on  Thursday  night." 

Then  he  burned  the  scrap  of  yellow  paper  as  he 
had  done  the  first,  and  with  the  same  stoical 
countenance;  after  which  he  dismissed  his  serv- 
ant, saying  briefly: 

"  When  I  need  you  again,  Tate,  I  shall  not  hes- 
itate to  call  upon  you." 

Ten  minutes  later  he  returned  to  the  ball  room, 
where  he  at  once  sought  out  Mrs.  Rossmore,  and 
bent  contritely  over  her  with  suave  apologies  for 


DEAD  SEA-FRUIT  135 

his  absence,  during  which  their  quadrille  had 
been  danced. 

These  she  accepted  with  pouting  hesitation, 
yet  would  retaliate  the  offense  by  studiously 
avoiding  him  for  the  rest  of  the  evening. 

When  all  the  lights  of  Maplehurst  were  out, 
and  every  sound  of  revelry  was  hushed  within 
those  halls,  Sir  Philip  stole  from  his  apartments 
out  into  the  still  grey  of  the  early  dawn,  where 
for  hours  he  walked  with  his  grim  tutor,  Satan, 
along  the  snow-bound  terrace  walls  above  the 
Merrimac. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

LOVE'S  BEHEST 

In  peace  love  tunes  the  shepherd's  reed; 

In  war  he  mounts  the  warrior's  iteed ; 

In  halls,  in  gay  attire  is  seen ; 

In  hamlet's  dances  on  the  green  ; 

Love  rules  the  court,  the  camp,  the  grove, 

And  man  below,  and  saints  above. 

Tor  love  is  heaven,  and  heaven  is  love. 

Scott. 

MORNING  dawned,  crisp,  cold  and  clear ;  but 
ere  the  house  party  at  Maplehurst  began  to 
assemble  below  stairs  the  sun  had  well  nigh 
reached  his  zenith,  and  struggled  vainly  to  shine 
through  a  rift  of  threatening  clouds. 

Sir  Philip  and  Mrs.  Rossmore  were  the  last  to 
enter  the  breakfast  room,  when  the  question  of  a 
sleigh  ride  was  on  the  tapis.  The  young  widow 
wore  a  becoming  morning  toilet  of  changeable 
green,  over  which  there  fell,  in  charming  contrast, 
great  billows  of  creamy  lace,  like  sea-foam,  and 
her  costume  was  still  enhanced  by  a  large  cluster 
of  nodding  fleur  de  Us,  which  she  wore  low  upon 
her  corsage. 

"  My  dear  Lady  Camden,"  said  she,  as  she 
noticed  the  quick  glance  of  her  hostess  wander 
(136) 


LOVE'S  BEHEST  137 

first  to  her  flowers  and  then  questioningly  to  Sir 
Philip's  face. 

"  We  have  been  touring  the  conservatories,  and 
see  !  I  come  back  laden  with  sweet  spoils.  I, 
really,"  with  a  half-arch,  half-guilty  look, 
"  thought  it  barbarous  of  your  husband,  but  he 
would  pick  these  for  me."  As  she  ended  she 
touched  caressingly  the  beautiful  fleur  de  Us,  and 
made  a  little  defiant  grimace  at  Sir  Philip,  who, 
smiling  back  at  her,  said,  with  his  accustomed 
indolent  drawl: 

"  I  have  assured  Mrs.  Rossmore  of  Lady  Cam- 
den's  approval.  She  delights  especially  in  her 
conservatories,  and  asks  no  higher  compliment 
than  that  which  her  guests  pay  her  by  enjoying 
them.  Is  it  not  so,  my  dear  ?"  he  asked  insidi- 
ously, directing  his  glance  towards  his  wife. 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Lady  Hortense,  but  she 
did  not  lift  her  flushed  face  from  the  coffee  urn 
as  she  spoke,  and  the  one  low-toned  word  flavored 
of  her  inward  indignation  at  an  offence  which 
she  knew  was  a  malevolent  and  coolly  directed 
one  on  the  part  of  Sir  Philip,  who  was  well  aware 
of  her  partiality  for  the  young  iris  tree,  and  knew 
that  she  had  always  guarded  vigilantly  against 
its  disturbance. 

"  Do  you  take  cream,  Mrs.  Rossmore  ?"  she 
asked,  as  her  hand  fluttered  over  the  dainty  ser- 
vice in  arranging  cups  and  saucers  for  the  late 
comers. 


138  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

"Please." 

"  And  sugar  ?  " 

"  One.— Oh,  Mr.  Bentwell,  indeed,  no  !  "  this  in 
reply  to  her  young  admirer's  eager  question, 

"  Will  you  make  one  of  our  sleighing  party  this 
afternoon,  Mrs.  Rossmore  ?  " 

"Although  sleighing  is  one  of  my  hobbies," 
added  Dorian,  "I  don't  quite  relish  the  idea  of 
being  caught  in  a  snow  storm." 

Fred  Bentwell  sighed. 

"Then  I  assuredly  will  not  go,"  she  read  in  his 
adoring  eyes,  and  with  a  coquettish  smile  she 
turned  to  her  host. 

"  Do  not  you  think  it  will  storm,  Sir  Philip  ?  " 
asked  she,  and,  without  waiting  for  his  response, 
she  continued  :  "  If  it  should,  and  there  could 
be  no  sleighing,  why  not  arrange  for  those  tab- 
leaux-vivants  that  we  were  discussing  last  night?  " 

"  Yes  I  by  all  means  let  us  have  some  char- 
ades," exclaimed  Fred  Bentwell ;  then  flushed  to 
the  roots  of  his  fair  hair  at  the  rebuking  eyes 
which  Dorian  flashed  upon  him.  . 

"  Look  !  it  is  snowing  even  now,"'  cried  Valois 
El  wood  at  this  juncture. 

They  all  glanced  toward  the  windows  and  sure 
enough  saw  a  few  idly- falling  flakes  interspersing 
the  somber  gloom  of  the  noontide. 

Sir  Philip's  eyes  looked  away  from  them  back 
into  Dorian  Rossmore's  face  : 

"  So  we  may  at  once  veto  the  sleighing  for  to- 


LOVES  BEHEST  139 

day,  and  organize  the  tableaux,"  he  said  with  a 
smile  of  indulgence  upon  his  sinister  face  which 
brought  a  wave  of  color  to  Dorian's. 

"  Do  you  not  think  it  would  be  infinitely  nicer, 
Lady  Camden  ?  "  she  asked. 

Lady  Hortense  bowed  with  the  listless  conces- 
sion which  she  gave  to  all  of  her  husband's  wishes. 
"  But,"  said  she,  "  of  course  there  are  always  some 
who  do  not  care  for  theatricals.  You  do  not,  do 
you,  Leonie  ?  "  she  asked,  turning  to  a  doll-faced, 
voluptuous  girl  of  seventeen  who  sat  next  to  Mrs. 
Ayers. 

"  No,"  declared  Miss  Leonie  Dextrell,  with  a 
simpering  smile,  "  to  me  they  are  totally  without 
charm.  Gladys  loves  to  act — that  is,  recite — but 
give  me  out-door  fun  !  Oh,  Sir  Philip  ! "  she 
supplemented.  "  I  brought  my  skates  ;  isn't  there 
a  pond  or  something  hereabouts  to  skate  on  ?  " 

"Yes,"  returned  Sir  Philip,  "  tb.3  water  is  well 
frozen  down  in  the  lake,  and  I  am  told  the  skat- 
ing there  is  excellent." 

"  Oh,  how  perfectly  lovely  !  "  gushed  Leonie, 
her  limpid  eyes  melting  in  tears  of  real  ecstasy. 
"  Will  you  come  skating  with  me,  Valois  ?  You 
skate  as  swiftly  as  a  lark  flies,  and  so  gracefully  ! 
Do  come  !  I  am  sure  you  don't  want  to  act;  do 
you  ?  "  she  asked. 

Valois  hesitated  and  directed  a  little  shy,  ques- 
tioning look  toward  Lieutenant  Carruthers.  It 
peemed  to  say,  "  Had  you  rather  skate  or  act  ?  " 


140  THE  BRIDE  OF  1NFELICE 

and  his  eyes  answered  back  something  that  made 
her  blush  scarlet. 

Mrs.  Rossmore  herself,  however,  settled  the 
debate. 

"  Leonie,"  said  she,  "  Captain  Pometer  will  go 
with  you  to  the  lake.  I  am  assured  that  he,  like 
yourself,  is  devoted  to  his  ekates  ;  but  Valois  and 
Lieutenant  Carruthers  are  to  assist  in  supporting 
our  entertainment,"  she  added  peremptorily. 

Immediately  after  breakfast  a  meeting  was 
called  and  the  coming  charades  duly  discussed 
and  arranged. 

Miss  Meredith  and  Fred  Bentwell  were  elected 
for  a  sketch  from  "  Lalla  Rookh."  Valois  Elwood 
and  Gershon  Carruthers  would  present  an  inter- 
esting scene  from  the  "  Courtship  of  Miles  Stan- 
dish."  Thayer  Volney  was  seized  upon  for  a 
Pygmalion,  and  Lady  Camden  singled  out  by  a 
unanimous  vote  to  do  the  statuary  part,  as  the 
Athenian  artist's  model,  Galatea. 

Vain  were  her  protestations  against  acting  this 
role.  Sir  Philip  saw  her  grow  pale  as  death  when 
it  was  assigned  her  ;  and  as  her  eyes  inadvert- 
ently met  his,  she  shuddered  at  the  evil  triumph 
she  saw  shining  in  them. 

With  a  last  appeal  she  turned  to  Mrs.  Ross- 
more  : 

"I  thank  you  for  the  compliment,  but  would 
prefer  that  Miss  Dextrell  take  the  part,"  said  she, 
"I  will  do  all  in  my  power  toward  making  the 


LOVE'S  BEHEST  141 

entertainment  a  success,  but  I  do  not  wish  to  at- 
tempt a  part  for  which  I  am  utterly  unfitted." 

"  Unfitted  ! "  cried  Dorian  Rossmore,  deprecat- 
ingly.  "  Why,  my  dear  Lady  Camden,  one  could 
not  be  more  fitted  to  the  role  than  you  !  You  are 
classical.  You  are  repos/.  You  are  all  that  would 
go  toward  making  a  perfect  statue.  Now,  Gladys 
here—" 

"  Oh  please  Mrs.  Rossmore,  spare  me ! " 
laughingly  interrupted  Miss  Dextrell,  who,  like 
her  sister  Leonie,  was  tl  doll-faced  and  voluptu- 
ous," yet  not  so  simpering  nor  dull.  "  I  am,  I 
assure  you,  fully  appreciative  of  my  own  short- 
comings ;  the  comparison  would  be  'odious'; 
there  is  nothing  classical  nor  tranquil  about  my 
composition;  I  should  giggle  outright  when  the 
calcium  lights  were  turned  on.  I  shall,  however, 
be  pleased  to  recite  something." 

So  for  a  recitation  she  was  accordingly  billed 
on  the  part  of  Mrs,  Rossmore,  who  graciously 
volunteered  herself,  as  there  was  "order  in 
variety,"  to  contribute  a  Spanish  solo  in  the  cos- 
tume of  her  mother's  country. 

When  the  programme  was  finished,  it  was  voted 
that  the  afternoon  be  devoted  to  the  preparation 
of  proper  costumes,  and  that  a  stage  be  impro- 
vised in  the  back  drawing-room  for  rehearsal  of 
the  various  parts  on  the  following  evening.  Thus 
the  interval  was  filled  up  with  the  rush  and 
hurry  of  excitement  that  is  generally  attendant 


142  THE  BRIDE  OF  IN  FELICE 

upon  such  events,  and  soon  after  dinner  on  Wed- 
nesday evening  commenced  the  rehearsal  with 
doors  strictly  closed  to  all  excepting  those  who 
composed  the  programme. 

Alice  Meredith,  with  her  bright  rippling  hair 
and  lovely  face,  and  with  her  voice — 

Sweet  as  the  breath  of  angel  sighs 
When  angel  sighs  are  most  divine, 

promised  a  revelation  in  the  character  of  Nour- 
mahal,  the  Arabian  maid  ;  but,  after  the  rehearsal 
of  her  part  was  over,  she  stole  away  to  the 
darkest  and  remotest  corner  of  the  front  drawing- 
room,  filled  with  secret  dislike  of  it.  She  had 
instinctively  felt  the  eyes  of  Thayer  Volney  upon 
her  all  the  while  she  had  been  einging  ;  and  as 
Selim  had  clasped  her,  with  all  the  assumed 
passion  of  a  great  love,  to  his  breast,  and  her 
head  had  fallen,  with  seeming  abandonment  upon 
his  arm,  she  revolted  even  as  she  had  whispered 
the  words  : 

Remember,  love,  the  feast  of  roses. 

Afterward  she  had  glanced  up  to  meet  that  pair 
of  serious  eyes,  and  in  them  she  had  read  a 
rebuke  which  smote  her  to  the  inmost  fibre  of 
her  being,  like  a  sharp  steel  point.  The  wound 
still  rankled  within  her  as  she  sank  down  in  the 
dim-lit  corner ;  and,  as  if  in  very  self-defense, 
she  cried  in  a  low  voice  which  only  her  own 
heart  heard  :  "  Oh  if  he  could  have  read  my 
soul's  dear  thought  when  I  said  those  words  : 


LOVE'S  BEHEST  143 

'  Remember,  love,  the  feast  of  roses.'  I  was 
thinking  of  the  night  before  last,  when  I  sat  with 
him  in  the  dim  conservatories  amid  the  breath- 
ing fragrance,  with  his  voice  making  sweeter 
music  to  my  ear  than  the  dreamy  strains  of  the 
waltz  or  the  fall  of  fountain  waters?.  Oh,  it  was 
of  that  elysian  moment  I  was  thinking,  and  his 
eyes  wounded  me  so  by  their  look  of  reproach  1  " 

How  long  she  remained  sitting  there,  lost  in 
a  reverie  which  was  full  of  wavering  shadow- 
pictures,  in  which  the  image  of  Thayer  Volney 
was  all  that  to  her  was  distinct,  she  did  not 
realize. 

She  started  at  length  at  some  uncertain  sound; 
and  looking  up  beheld  the  object  of  her  medita- 
tions. 

He  came  silently  forward  out  of  the  gloom  and 
sat  down  beside  her. 

"  Why  are  you  sitting  here  all  alone?"  he  asked 
in  a  voice  which  his  latent  passion  rendered 
slightly  unsteady. 

She  was  silent.  The  dim-lit  space  before  her 
for  a  moment  seemed  to  be  peopled  with  unreal 
shapes.  She  could  not  speak  for  the  strange 
emotion  which  was  stirring  her  being  to  its  very 
depths  and  almost  stifling  her. 

Thayer  sat  gazing  at  her  with  his  dark,  serious 
eyes  so  full  of  his  soul's  love  that  they  would 
have  startled  her,  had  she  trusted  herself  to  look 
up.  Her  silence  made  him  deliriously  happy  j 


144  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

and  a  flood  of  passionate  words  were  upon  his 
lips  ready  to  burst  forth.  Should  he  utter  them  ? 
Would  she  think  him  officious  for  approaching 
her  thus  early  in  their  acquaintance,  and  hate 
him  for  his  presumptuous  advances  ?  No  ;  his 
intuition  had  divined  that  this  was  no  cold, 
incredulous  and  prejudiced  nature  that  he  was 
about  to  appeal  to,  but  one  whose  every  fibre  was 
aglow  with  generous,  womanly  sentiment.  He 
would  find  in  that  heart  some  spontaneous  and 
harmonic  echo  to  the  love  which  it  had  engend- 
ered, which  was  its  own  true  offspring. 

No  sooner  had  the  last  thought  shaped  itself 
than  he  was  upon  his  knees  at  her  feet,  and  she 
heard  his  low  voice  saying,  fervidly  : 

"  Alice,  I  have  experienced  to-night  the  first 
jealous  pang  of  my  life  !  Oh,  my  love,  I  could 
not  bear  to  see  his  arms  about  you  !  The  sight 
maddened  me  !  I  might  not  have  told  you  so 
soon  in  words  how  completely  you  have  enshrined 
yourself  in  my  heart,  but  this  new  germ  which, 
guiltily,  I  feel  invading  the  purity  of  my  love  has 
prompted  me  to  cry  out :  I  love  you  !  I  love  you  ! 
Not  with  that  fragile  self-centered  passion  which 
men  ofttimes  confess  ;  but  with  one  which  com- 
bines the  interest  and  holiest  emotion  of  the  soul 
and  the  mind  !  I  loved  you  ere  I  knew  your 
name  ;  I  will  love  you  to  the  end  of  my  life  !  No 
other  image  can  ever  efface  yours  from  my  heart; 
it  shall  be  an  incentive  to  all  the  purest  actions 


LOVE'S  BEHEST  145 

and  noblest  purposes  that  the  future  may  ever 
know  of  me  !  " 

His  voice  ceased,  and  in  the  interval  of  silence 
which  followed,  she  heard  his  breath  come  quickly 
and  felt  him  shivering  as  with  a  chill. 

He  had  possessed  himself  of  one  of  her  hands, 
which  gently  answered  to  the  pressure  of  his  own; 
but  her  lips  refused  to  frame  a  single  word  in 
answer  to  his  appeal,  though  her  eyes — he  could 
not  see  them — revealed  the  answer  which  her 
glad  soul  could  not  disguise. 

At  length  he  looked  up. 

*'  Be  kind,"  he  whispered.  "  Say  but  one  word  ! 
I  will  understand,  Alice." 

One  word  !  in  what  one  word  could  she  make 
him  understand  all  that  she  saw  in  her  heart  ? 
In  what  one  word  could  she  combine  the  acknowl- 
edgment of  her  joy  and  the  confession  of  her 
despair  ? 

Oh  that  so  felicitous  a  moment  should  be 
darkened  by  the  grief  of  knowing  that  it  could 
not  last !  Already  she  could  hear  its  funeral 
note  sounding  through  the  silence. 

A  voice  came  faintly  to  them  ;  it  was  calling 
Mr.  Volney  for  rehearsal.  Then  a  shadow  dark- 
ened the  threshold  of  the  folding  doors,  and 
Dorian  Rossmore  came  toward  the  very  corner 
where  they  sat.  "  Mr.  Volney  ! — is  this  Mr.  Vol- 
ner  ?  "  she  asked  half  dubiously. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered.     "  Are  you  ready  for  me, 


146  THE  BRIDE  OF  IN  FELICE 

*    Mrs.  Rossmore  ?     I  will  be  there  immediately  !  " 

He  waited  until  the  woman  withdrew,  then  in 
a  hurried  whisper,  he  added  to  Alice  : 

"  I  can  better  bear  your  silence  than  a  hopeless 
word,  or  a  rebuke  that  would  pain  me  yet  more 
deeply.  But  if  you  would  merely  say  that  you 
believe  my  avowal  as  sincere,  and  that  I  need  not 
wholly  despair." 

She  lifted  her  eyes  to  his  with  a  sad,  wistful 
light  in  them,  and  said  brokenly  :  "  I  believe  in 
your  words — implicitly.  I — I  believe  in  them 
religiously,  and  with  all  my  heart  and  soul  !  but 
oh  Mr.  Volney,  do  not — do  not  hope  for  more 
than  this ! " 

His  only  answer  was  to  lift  her  hand  to  his 
lips  and  kiss  it  reverently,  passionately.  Then 
he  went  away. 

When  he  was  quite  gone,  she  pressed  her  lips 
to  the  spot  where  his  own  had  rested,  murmuring 
as  she  did  so  : 

"  Oh,  my  love,  my  love  I  what  grim  decree  of 
destiny  is  this  ?  To  know  that  you  are  mine  and 
I  am  thine  by  what  seems  to  be  the  holy  cove- 
nant of  God,  and  still  to  know  that  at  the  hand 
of  Providence  '  like  two  cleft  rocks,  our  lives  are 
sundered  wide.'  Oh,  is  it  just,  dear  Heaven, 
that  such  things  should  be  ?  " 

She  went  up  to  her  room  with  hot  tears  blind- 
ing her  way  ;  and  there  she  knelt  down  in  the 
alcove  beside  her  bed,  and  prayed  fervently  for 


LOVE'S  BEHEST  147 

wisdom  to  see  the  right  and  for  strength  to  offer 
up  the  sacrifice  of  Thayer's  love  if,  as  it  seemed 
to  her  now,  so  bitter  an  obligation  lay  between 
herself  and  duty. 

Soon  after  she  rose  there  came  a  little  tap  upon 
her  door. 

"  It  is  only  me — Valois.  May  I  come  in  just 
for  a  moment  ?  "  said  the  voice  of  her  friend. 

"Certainly,  come." 

She  was  glad  there  was  no  light  to  reveal  her 
tear-stained  face,  and  she  strove  to  make  her 
voice  sound  calm. 

"  Where  are  you  ?  Why  are  you  in  the  dark  ? 
May  I  kneel  by  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  darling,"  Alice  answered. 

"Allie,"  throwing  her  arms  about  the  slender 
waist  and  hiding  her  face  upon  the  heaving 
bosom  of  her  friend,  "  I  am  very,  ve-ry  happy, 
dear  !  Guess  what  has  happened." 

"  Lieutenant  Carruthers  has  proposed  to  you  ?" 
suggested  Alice,  as  she  let  her  hand  stray 
tenderly  over  the  shorn  rings  of  jet. 

"  No  ;  guess  again. 

"  He  has  declared  his  love  ?  " 

The  shorn  head  nestled  closer,  and  Valois 
heaved  a  delicious  sigh. 

"  Yes,"  lisped  the  young  girl,  "  but  that  is  not 
all ;  he — he  kissed  me  twice." 

And  so,  as  far 

As  the  universe  spreads  its  flaming  wall, 
Take  all  the  pleasures  of  all  the  spheres 
And  multiply  each  through  endless  years, 
Dm:  niiuute  of  heaven  is  worth  them  all. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE    CLAP-TRAP 

The  fountain  in  the  odorous  garden  cast  up  its  silver  spray  In  the 
air,  and  kept  a  delicious  coolness  in  the  midst  of  the  sultry  110011. 
The  handmaids  almost  invariably  attended  on  lone,  who  with 
her  freedom  of  life  preserved  the  most  delicate  modesty,  sat  at  a 
little  distance ;  by  the  feet  of  Glaucus  lay  the  lyre  on  which  he  had 
been  playing  to  lone  one  of  his  Lesbian  airs. 

The  scene— the  group  before  Arbaces  was  stamped  by  that 
peculiar  and  refined  ideality  of  poesy  which  we  yet,  not  errone- 
ously, imagine  to  be  the  distinction  of  the  ancients. 

i'he  marble  columns,  the  vases  of  flowe  rs,  the  statue,  white  and 
tranquil,  closing  every  vista  ;  and  above  all  the  two  loving  forms 
from  which  a  sculptor  might  have  caught  either  inspiration  or 
despair  ! 

Arbaces  pausing  for  a  moment,  gazed  on  the  pair. 

THE  LAST  DAYS  OP  POMPEII. 
— Sir  Edward  Bulwer  Lytton. 

T^HE  curtain  rose  upon,  the  garden  of  "  Shali- 
i.  mar."  Overhead  stretched  a  canopy  of  starry 
blue,  while  an  invisible  light  from  behind  the  stage 
fell  subtly  over  tropical  plants,  flowers  and  statues, 
swathing  the  scene  in  a  tranquil  radiance  like 
that  of  a  mid-summer  night's  moon. 

At  a  short  distance  from  a  miniature  fountain, 
which  had  been  ingeniously  contrived  to  play 
forth  a  shining  spray  into  the  air,  and  whose 
basin  was  flanked  with  blossoming  exotic  plants, 
the  Imperial  Selim  reclined  ;  while  about  him 
moved  his  festive  guests,  fair  maids  and  radiant 
(148) 


THE  CLAP-TRAP  149 

lovers ;  or  loitered,  some  of  them,  at  the  spread 
board  of  fruit  and  wine. 

In  the  air  floated  soft  dream-like  strains  of 
music — song  whose  magic  measures  were  accom- 
panied by  the  guitar  j  but  suddenly  above  these 
another  voice  was — 

So  divinely  breathed  around 
That  all  stood  hushed  and  wondering, 
And  turned  and  looked  into  the  air, 
As  if  they  thought  to  sae  the  wing 
Of  Israfel,  the  Angel  there. 

Suddenly  a  thrill  of  delight  ran  through  the 
audience,  as  through  the  foliage  glided  the  Sultana 
Nourmahal  with  her  beautiful  features  only  half 
veiled,  and  her  glorious  hair  falling  like  a  cloak 
of  spun  gold,  about  her  Oriental  costume. 

As  Selim  and  his  guests  gazed  upon  her,  en- 
tranced, she  rested  her  lute  and  to  a  subdued  ac- 
companiment her  nightingale-like  voice  rose,  first 
low  and  soft,  then  gradually  trilling  to  its  high'est 
pitch  of  sweetness  : 

There's  a  blis<8  beyond  all  that  the  minstrel  hath  told, 
When  two  that  are  linked  in  a  heav'nly  tie, 
With  heart  never  changing,  and  brow  never  cold, 
Love  on  through  all  ills,  and  love  on  till  they  die  I 
One  hoar  of  a  passion  so  sacred  is  worth 
Whole  ages  of  heartless  and  wandering  bliM: 
And  oh  1  if  there  be  an  Elysium  on  earth. 
It  is  this,  it  is  this  1 

Never  before  in  her  life  had  Alice  Meredith  sung 
so  well,  and  with  such  a  depth  of  genuine  feeling. 
When  she  ceased  her  listeners  were  wild  in  their 
applause  of  delight,  while  one  among  them  felt  as 


150  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

the  true  Selim  had,  "  too  inly  touched  for  utter- 
ance." Once  while  she  sang,  Alice  had  let  her  eyes 
wander  to  Thayer  Volney,  and  there  had  been  an 
expression  in  them  which  told  him  that  her  words 
were  directed  to  himself  alone. 

Oh  why  could  he  not  have  rushed  forward  and 
fallen  upon  his  knees  before  her  then  and  there, 
and  told  her  that  he  had  understood  ?  It  was 
only  by  a  supreme  effort  that  he  controled  the 
mad  impulse  and  calmed  his  joy  to  listen  as  again 
those  enchanting  tones  rose  above  the  hush  : 

Fly  to  the  desert,  fly  with  me, 

Our  Arab  tents  are  rude  for  thee ; 

But,  Oh  !  the  choice  what  heart  can  doubt, 

Of  tenU  with  love,  or  throues  withouc? 

Our  rocks  are  rough,  but  smiling  there 

Th'  acacia  waves  her  yellow  hair, 

Lonely  and  sweet,  nor  loved  the  less 

For  floweriug  in  the  wilderness. 

Our  sands  are  bare,  but  down  their  slope 

The  silv'ry  footed  Antelope 

As  gracefully  and  gaily  springs 

As  o'er  the  marble  courts  of  kings. 

Then  come— thy  Arab  maid  will  be 

The  loved  and  lone  acacia  tree, 

The  Antelope  whose  feet  shall  bless 

With  their  light  sound  thy  lonelineM. 

These  stanzas  the  singer  had  directed  to  the 
rapturously  listening  Emperor  ;  but  there  was  a 
slight  change  of  position  and  another  telegraphed 
glance  toward  Thayer  as  she  pursued  : 

Oh  !  there  are  looks  and  tones  that  dart 
An  instant  sunshine  through  the  heart, 
As  if  the  soul  that  minute  caught 
Some  treasure  it  through  life  had  sought; 


THE  VLAP-TliAP  161 

As  If  the  very  lips  and  eyes, 
Predestin'd  to  have  all  our  sight 
And  never  be  forgot  again, 
Sparkled  and  spoke  before  us  then  I 

So  came  thy  every  glance  and  tone 
When  first  on  me  they  breathed  and  shone 
New,  as  if  brought  from  other  spheres, 
Yet  welcomed  as  if  loved  for  years. 

To  the  Emperor,  with  the  same  sweetness  of 
tone,  yet  with  that  breathing  pathos  absent  from 
it  which  had  marked  the  foregoing  verses : 

Then  fly  with  me,  if  thou  hast  known 
No  other  flame,  nor  falsely  thrown 
A  gem  away,  that  tbou  badst  sworn 
Should  never  in  thy  heart  be  worn. 

But  if  for  me  thou  dost  forsake 
Some  other  maid,  and  rudely  break 
Her  worship'd  image  from  its  base 
To  give  to  me  the  ruined  place ; 

Then  fare  thee  well,  I'd  rather  make 
My  bower  upon  some  icy  lake 
When  thawing  suns  begin  to  shine, 
Than  trust  to  love  so  false  <u  thine  I 

And  so  at  last : 

The  mask  is  off,  the  charm  is  wrought 
And  Selim  to  his  heart  has  caught 
His  Nourmahal,  his  Harem's  Light  I 

Alice  suffered  her  head  to  fall  upon  his  arm 
and  whispered  "Remember  love,  the  Feast  of 
Roses  "  and  the  curtain  fell  upon  a  tableau  which 
Thomas  Moore  himself  would  not  have  criticised 
had  he  been  present  to  witness  it. 

During  the  short  interval  which  followed, 
Thayer  kept  his  eye  fixed  upon  the  stage  exit 
fondly  hoping  to  see  his  "Sultana,"  as  he  now 


152  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

termed  her  to  his  rapturous  heart,  come  down 
among  the  audience  to  witness  the  remainder  of 
the  performance,  but  the  curtain  went  up  again, 
and  after  a  brief  overture  from  the  band  of 
stringed  instruments  concealed  behind  the  stage, 
the  programme  continued,  and  he  was  forced  to 
reconcile  himself  to  the  thought  of  not  seeing  Alice 
again  perhaps  before  the  dance  commenced, 
which  was  arranged  to  follow  the  charades. 

And  then  !  Oh,  the  ecstasy  of  that  prospective 
moment,  when  in  the  waltz  he  would  feel  her 
heart  beating  against  his  own  !  — 

He  was  suddenly  brought  back  to  the  present 
by  the  little  flutter  of  polite  applause  that  greeted 
Miss  Gladys  Dextrell  as  she  made  her  appear- 
ance on  the  stage,  and  recited  Schiller's  beau- 
tiful poem,  "The  Veiled  Statue  at  Sais,"  with 
such  a  display  of  true  appreciation  of  her  poet,  as 
to  call  forth  a  unanimous  encore  in  which  even 
Leonie,  the  immaculate,  being  roused  to  a  sense 
of  admiration,  joined  heartily. 

Next  came  Lieutenant  Carruthers  and  Valois 
in  the  spinning  scene  from  "  The  Courtship  of 
Miles  Standish." 

"Truly,  Priscilla,"  he  said,  "when  I  see  you  spinning  and  spinning, 
Never  idle  a  moment,  but  thrifty  and  thoughtful  of  others, 
Suddenly  you  are  transformed,  are  visibly  changed  in  a  moment, 
You  are  no  longer  Priscilla,  but  Bertha  the  beautiful  spinner." 

Here  the  light  hand  on  the  wheel  grew  swifter  and  the  spindla 
uttered  an  angry  snarl,  and  the  thread  snapped  short  in  her  finders; 
while  the  impetuous  speaker,  not  heeding  the  mischief,  continued: 
"You  are  the  beautiful  Bertha,  the  spinner,  the  queen  of  Helvetia: 


THE  CLAP-TRAP  153 

8he  whose  story  T  read  In  a  stall  in  the  streets  of  Southampton, 
Who,  as  she  rode  on  her  palfry  o'er  valley  and  meadow  and  moun- 
tain, 

Ever  was  spinning  her  thread  from  a  distaff  fixed  to  her  saddle. 
She  was  so  thrifty  and  good  that  her  name  passed  into  a  proverb. 
80  shall  it  be  with  your  own,  when  the  spinning  wheel  shall  no 

longer 

Hum  in  the  house  of  the  farmer  and  fill  its  chambers  with  music. 
Then  shall  the  mother,  reproving,  relate  how  It  was  in  their  child- 
hood, 
Praising  the  good  old  times,  and  the  days  of  Priscilla,  the  spinner." 

Straight  uprose  from  her  wheel  the  beautiful  Puritan  maiden, 
pleased  with  the  praise  of  her  thrift  from  him  whose  praise  was 
the  sweetest,  and  drew  from  the  reel  on  the  table  a  snowy  skein  of 
her  spinning,  making  answer  meanwhile  to  the  flattering  praises 
of  Alden: 

"  Come,  you  must  not  be  idle;  if  I  am  a  pattern  of  house-wives, 
Show  yourself  equally  worthy  of  being  the  model  of  husbands. 
Hold  this  skein  in  your  hands,  while  I  wind  it,  ready  for  knitting; 
Then  who  knows  but  hereafter,  when  fashions  have  changed  and 

the  manners, 
Fathers  may  talk  to  their  sons  of  the  good  old  days  of  John  Alden." 

Thus  with  jest  and  laugh,  the  skein  on  his  hands  was  adjusted, 
he  sitting  awkward  there,  with  his  arms  extended  before  him ; 
she  standing  graceful,  erect,  and  winding  the  thread  from  his 
fin  ;ers,  sometimes  chiding  a  little  his  clumsy  manner  of  holding ; 
sometimes  touching  his  hands  as  she  disentangled  expertly  twist 
or  knot  in  the  yarn,  unawares — for  how  could  she  help  it? — send- 
ing electric  thrills  through  every  nerve  of  his  body. 

Lo!  in  the  midst  of  this  scene,  a  breathless  messenger  entered, 
bringing  in  hurry  and  heat  the  terrible  news  from  the  village.  Yes, 
Miles  Standish  was  dead !  Slain  by  a  poisoned  arrow,  shot  down 
in  the  front  of  the  battle. 

Silent  aud  statue-like  stood  Priscilla,  her  face  looking  backward 
Btill  at  the  face  of  the  speaker,  her  arms  uplifted  in  horror;  but  John 
Alden,  upstarting  as  if  the  barb  of  the  arrow  piercing  the  heart  of 
his  friend  had  struck  his  own,  and  had  sundered  once  and  forever 
the  bonds  that  held  him  bound  as  a  captive,  wild  with  excess  of 
sensation,  the  awful  delight  of  his  freedom,  clasped  almost  with 
a  groan  the  motionless  form  of  Priscilla,  pressing  her  close  to  his 
heart  as  forever  his  own,  and  exclaiming  : 

"  Those  whom  the  Lord  hath  united,  let  no  man  put  them  asun- 
der! " 

Tableau  !  —  pronounced  by  one  unanimous 
accord — Full  of  Reality  and  Pathos  ! 


154  THE  BRIDE  OP  INFELICB 

After  this  followed  Mrs.  Rossmore  in  her  Span- 
ish song. 

The  curtain  rose  upon  that  lady  seated  on  a 
low  ottoman  at  the  base  of  the  statue  of  Chloris. 
Fred  Bentwell  lay  stretched  recumbent  upon  the 
award  at  her  feet,  his  head  supported  on  his  bent 
arm,  his  gaze  adoringly  fixed  upon  the  black-eyed 
siren's  face  as  she  sang  her  chosen  words  in  that 
soft,  seductive  tongue  and  voice  so  ravishingly  sweet 

How  fascinating,  how  beautiful  was  she  I  The 
gracefully  poised  head  with  its  jet  locks  braided 
and  entwined  with  costly  jewels  ;  the  long,  white, 
curved  throat,  the  bare  and  shapely  arms,  the 
slender,  tapering  fingers  all  a-glitter  with  rubies 
and  emeralds  and  sapphires  ;  and  above  all,  those 
splendid  Eastern  orbs,  in  which  there  seemed  to 
live  to-night,  above  all  other  lights,  that  of  a  sub- 
tle ambition. 

She  was  fascinating — dangerously  so— to  such 
men  as  Sir  Philip  Camden,  and  to  poor,  weak, 
susceptible  beings  like  Fred  Bentwell  ;  but  her 
beautiful  face  and  fawning  suavity  of  manner  had 
gradually  come  to  be  suspected  among  the  judi- 
cious of  that  circle  wherein  she  moved  as  being 
but  a  mask  for  her  stratagem  and  artifice  ;  thus, 
when  Mrs.  Elwood  cautiously  whispered  to  her 
husband  :  "  She  reminds  me  of  a  beautiful  ser- 
pent," the  colonel  was  not  at  all  reluctant  in  re- 
plying :  "  Yes,  very  cunning,  very  artful,  I  assure 
you,  my  dear." 


THE  CLAP-TRAP  155 

"  I  don't  like  her  one  bit !  "  openly  declared  the 
immaculate  Leonie  Dextrell  to  Lady  Hortense's 
mother,  as  the  singer,  after  responding  to  an  en- 
thusiastic recall,  was  shut  off  from  view. 

"  My  dear  young  lady ! "  exclaimed  that  matron 
brusquely,  "you  should  not  be  so  bold  in  express- 
ing your  likes  and  dislikes ;  it  is  exceedingly 
vulgar  manners,"  she  added,  with  an  asperity 
which  caused  the  offender  to  turn  tear-brimmed 
eyes  toward  the  curtain,  which  was  about  to  rise 
on  the  most  important  feature  of  the  entertain- 
ment. 

"A— h!"  That  murmur  of  delight  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  hush  so  intense  that  every  one  seemed 
suddenly  to  have  left  off  breathing,  as  Galatea, 
veiled  behind  a  gleaming  white  transparency, 
stood  before  them.  Galatea,  the  statuesque,  the 
peer] ess  ;  Galatea,  whose  features  were  immobile 
as  the  features  of  that  Greek  Goddess  of  Flowers, 
sitting  apart. 

Every  undulating  curve  of  her  perfect  form  was 
defined  under  the  clinging  tunic  which  swept 
away  to  her  feet,  leaving  but  one  faultless  arm 
revealed.*  Her  face,  utterly  void  of  color,  shone 
exquisitely  beautiful  and  clear  as  Cyprian  mar- 
ble, and  not  so  much  as  a  flutter  of  the  long,  dark 
lashes  hinted  that  this  was  a  form  of  life  and  not 
of  stone — not  until  above  the  intense  hush  there 
was  heard  the  sound  of  approaching  footsteps  ; 
when  the  lips  were  discerned  to  move  slightly 


156  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

apart,  and  the  name  "  Pygmalion  !  "  issued  in 
tremulous  accents  from  them. 

There  was  a  brief  pause  ;  then  the  yonng  Athen- 
ian sculptor  appeared,  arrayed  also  in  his  classical 
tunic,  and  presenting  such  an  exquisite  picture 
that  a  thrill  of  ecstasy  ran  through  the  assembly, 
and  the  ladies  forgot  themselves  and  exclaimed 
aloud : 

"  Beautiful  !  "     "  Divine  !  "     "  Sublime  !  " 

The  music  was  playing  a  soft  symphony  from 
Mozart,  and  above  this  his  voice  was  heard  call- 
ing in  a  bewildered  tone  : 

"  Who  called  ?  " 

"  Pygmalion,"  again  came  that  calm  voice  from 
the  statue,  when  impetuously  he  turned,  and,  tear- 
ing the  veil  from  before  it,  exclaimed  : 

"Ye  gods  !  It  lives  !  It  speaks  !  I  have  my 
prayer  ;  my  Galatea  breathes  !  " 

"  Where  am  I  ?  "  again  spoke  the  dream-like 
voice.  "  Let  me  speak.  Pygmalion,  give  rrie  thy 
hand — both  hands — how  soft  and  warm  !  Whence 
came  I  ?  "  (Descends.) 

' '  Why,  from  yonder  pedestal,"  said  Pygmalion. 

"  That  pedestal  ?  Ah,  yes  ;  I  recollect ;  there 
was  a  time  when  it  was  a  part  of  me." 

Tableau. —  The  twain  standing  with  clasped 
hands  gazing  into  each  other's  eyes. 

The  lights  went  down,  the  music  swelled  to  a 
passionate  storm  of  melody,  and  slowly  the  cur- 
tain was  rung  down  as  they  stood,  still  looking 


THE  CLAP-TRAP  157 

into  each  other's  faces — her  eyes  full  of  her  soul 
which,  unconsciously,  he  was  letting  the  magic 
of  his  own  draw  from  her ;  he  wondering  at  the 
strange  expression  of  her  face,  and  the  stranger 
thrill  which  her  trembling  hands  transmitted 
through  his  body,  like  a  shock  of  electricity. 

The  tempestuous  applause  was  almost  totally 
unheeded  by  Lady  Hortense  ;  but  when  a  voice 
from  behind  them  said  hurriedly  : 

"  Keep  perfectly  still — do  not  change  your  posi- 
tions, we  will  have  to  ring  the  curtain  up  again," 
they  both  heard  and  obeyed  the  peremptory  ad- 
monition. 

"  The  Athenian  Glaucus  and  Neapolitan  lone  : 
•  hero-lovers  of  the  Last  Days  of  Pompeii  !  "  (bell, 
followed  swiftly  by  curtain.) 

"What  is  this  ?  "  gasped  Lady  Camden,  as  the 
announcement  rang  out  and  echoed  back  to  them. 

Thayer,  too  astounded  to  answer,  cast  a  swift 
glance  about  them. 

What  trick  was  this  ? 

True  as  the  scene  has  been  described  in  ancient 
Pompeii  life,  they  both  saw  it  now  depicted  before 
them  —  the  maids  sitting  apart,  the  lyre  lying 
upon  the  ground  near  them,  the  vases  of  flowers, 
the  statue,  the  spraying  fountain,  and,  standing 
in  the  background,  the  wicked  priest,  Arbaces,  his 
black  robes  floating  about  him,  his  arms  folded, 
and  every  feature  of  his  countenance  convulsed 
with  unholy  triumph. 


158  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

In  this  character,  who  looked,  indeed,  more 
fiend  than  human,  Lady  Camden  recognized  Sir 
Philip;  and  forgetful  of  all  save  the  evil  plot 
which  he  had  surprised  her  in,  she  shrieked 
wildly  as  he  advanced — shrieked  wildly  in  hyster- 
ical laughter,  then  fell  forward  swooning  in  the 
arms  of — Glaucus. 

Grand  Tableau,  finale  I 

(Curtain  and  confusion.') 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE   TALISMAN 

Confusion  worse  confounded. 

-Milton. 

THE  trap  had  been  an  ingeniously  devised  one 
on  the  part  of  Sir  Philip  Camden,  and  even 
as  his  innocent  victim  lay  crushed  and  stunned 
beneath  it,  he  secretly  gloated  over  his  skill  and 
the  tragic  manner  in  which  his  ruse  had  termin- 
ated. 

Lady  Camden's  swoon  was  of  long  duration;  and 
when  at  length  she  returned  to  consciousness  her 
strength  was  so  far  spent  that  she  was  compelled 
to  retire  to  her  apartments.  None,  however,  aside 
from  Sir  Philip  himself,  divined  the  immediate 
cause  of  her  illness  ;  none  surmised  that  in  ar- 
ranging the  garden  scene  for  the  theatricals  he 
had  insidiously  planned  so  that  it  would  also 
resemble  in  detail  a  Pompeian  peristyle,  and 
there  would  only  be  required  the  speedy  adjust- 
ment of  the  maids  and  Arbaces  to  make  it  perfect 
for  the  tableau  of  Glaucus  and  lone. 

"Sir  Philip,"  said   Mrs.  Rossmore,  when   by 
chance  the  two  met  alone  in  the  library  the  fol- 
lowing morning,  after  breakfast,  "  do  you  think 
(159) 


160  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

it  quite  fair  to  have  inveigled  me  into  the  blind 
role  which  I  enacted  last  night  ?  " — she  had  sim- 
ulated the  part  of  a  maid — "  There  was  a  double 
entendre  to  your  ruse  j  although  you  would  guard 
it  so  zealously  under  the  rose,  I  am  certain  that 
you  willfully  and  maliciously  meant  to  tyrannize 
over  Lady  Cam  den." 

It  was  a  bold,  though  skillfully  aimed  thrust, 
and  for  an  instant  Sir  Philip  stood  plainly  dis- 
concerted by  it ;  the  next,  however,  he  had  col- 
lected himself,  when  nonchalantly  flicking  a  mote 
of  dust  from  the  satin  lappel  of  his  coat,  he  said, 
with  well-feigned  seriousness  : 

"I  give  you  my  word,  Mrs.  Rossmore — a — I 
simply  created  the  surprise  as  an  indulgence  to 
my  wife,  who  has  alv/ays  evinced  a  marked  prefer- 
ence for  the  Greek  characters  of  Glaucus  and 
lone  above  all  others." 

"  But  Arbaces.  Was  it  necessary  for  Arbaces 
to  appear  ?  "  questioned  Dorian,  in  her  shrewdest 
of  pretty  tones. 

"  Oh,  that,"  laughed  Sir  Philip,  with  a  shrug, 
"  was  a  necessary  feature,  certainly  !  a  feature  of 
distinction  between  the  two  similar  tableaux." 

•'  But  why  did  you  assume  the  role  ?  Her 
emotion,  it  is  generally  supposed,  was  caused 
from  sheer  terror  upon  beholding  you,  as  the 
wicked  priest." 

"  It  would  have  been  the  same  had  Bentwell, 
or  Pometer,  or  any  other  taken  the  part,"  Sir 


THE  TALISMAN  161 

Philip  assured  her  calmly.  "Her  excitement 
was  due  to  her  poor  health — Lady  Camden  is 
not  at  all  well.  However,  I  had  not  anticipated 
that  splendid  little  piece  of  acting  on  her  part ; 
nevertheless,  I  was  charmed  with  it.  Now  con- 
fess, yourself,  Mrs.  Rossmore,  that  it  was  admir- 
ably done  for  an  amateur." 

She  made  a  gesture  of  impatience. 

"  Have  you,  then,  no  regrets  on  account  of  her 
illness  ?  "  she  asked,  almost  petulantly.  "  The 
doctor  says  she  may  not  leave  her  apartments 
for  several  days,  in  which  event  your  house-party 
must  needs  be  brought  to  an  abrupt  conclusion." 

Her  fingers  had  been  nervously  toying  with  a 
half  blown  rose,  which  rested  carelessly  amid  the 
lace  of  her  gown,  and  as  she  finished  speaking 
she  tore  away  the  blossom  and  scattered  its 
creamy  petals  broadcast  over  the  carpet. 

It  \«as  the  action  of  a  vexed  child,  and  Sir 
Philip  watched  it  with  an  amused  smile,  and  with 
something  of  triumph  in  his  narrow  little  eyes. 

"  Of  course  I  am  sorry,  immeasurably  sorry," 
he  said,  after  his  habitual  pause. 

"I  little  anticipated  so  unhappy  an  issue,  and 
if  I  have  been  the  blind  medium  of  shortening 
your  stay  I  deplore  it  unutterably  !  Believe  me, 
Mrs.  Rossmore,  when,  by  my  honor  I  swear  that 
I  would  perpetuate  your  sojourn  at  Maplehurst 
were  it  within  my  power  to  do  so  !"  He  looked  at 
her  with  his  eyes  full  of  an  unrighteous  fire  as  he 


162  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

spoke,  and  she  turned  from  them  with  apparent 
loathing  ;  but  not  before  he  had  noted  the  quick 
upheaval  of  her  chest  and  the  glittering  light 
which  leapt  into  the  dark  of  her  eyes,  and  which 
kindled  them  to  a  startling  brilliancy. 

She  was  moving  toward  the  door,  but  Sir  Philip 
pressed  forward  and  intercepted  her  ere  yet 
her  hand  was  upon  the  knob. 

<l  Mrs.  Kossmore — Dorian,  listen  to  me  ! "  he 
gaid,  and  there  was  a  passionate  appeal  in  his  voice 
which  forced  her  to  obey  silently,  and  with  her 
eyes  bent  upon  the  floor.  She  was  very  pale,  and 
her  bosom  still  heaved  as  with  some  strong  in- 
ward emotion;  she  waited  for  him  to  go  on. 

"  Your,"  he  commenced  at  length,  "  woman's 
intuition  must  have  led  you  to  divine  something 
of  the  true  nature  of  the  feelings  existing  between 
Lady  Camden  and  myself.  You  will  not  be  sur- 
prised to  hear  that  we  are  by  no  means  a  felici- 
tous pair  ?"  . 

"  I  ?  "  she  suddenly  left  off  regarding  the  inter- 
laced leaves  on  the  carpet,  and  let  her  Creole  eyea 
rest  steadily  upon  his  face,  " — have  I  the  slightest 
title  to  surmise  anything  in  relation  ^  to  your 
domestic  affairs  ?  Why  do  you  make  me  your 
confessor  ?  "  she  asked  impatiently. 

"  Why  ?  because  I  love  you  I " 

A  swift  color  traversed  the  paleness  of  her  face. 

*'  Oh,  this  is  odious  !  You  speak  to  me  as  if  I 
were  afemme  de  chambre  I"  she  exclaimed  angrily. 


THE  TALISMAN  163 

"No,"  he  retorted,  "  I  speak  to  you  in  all  honor 
and  sincerity.  I  love  you,  oh  peerless  amongst 
women  !  with  my  whole  heart,  and  soul,  and  life, 
I  love  you  I" 

As  the  man  spoke  thus  passionately,  suddenly 
Dorian  assumed  a  dramatic  air  : 

•*  Well,"  said  she,  "  if  you  love  me,  what  then  ? 
Will  you  give  out  that  the  Lady  Hortense  is 
'sick  and  like  to  die'  ?  Will  you  inquire  you 
out  some  'mean  born  servant'  to  administer 
poison  to  her  that  you  may  marry  me  ?  " 

Sir  Philip  made  a  passionate  gesture  of  annoy- 
ance. The  woman's  varied  moods  maddened 
even  while  they  charmed  him. 

"  I  am  not  the  duke  of  Glo'ster,"  he  replied, 
contemptuously.  "  I  have  not  for  once  nourished 
so  vile  a  thought  as  you  would  intimate.  Ah 
Dorian,  how  unjust,  how  unkind,  unworthy  of 
you !  "  he  added  reproachfully. 

Dorian  bit  her  lip  and  dropped  her  eyes  like 
one  greatly  embarrassed. 

"  No,  no  ; "  Sir  Philip  went  on  presently,  and 
his  voice  was  hardly  more  than  a  whisper  now. 
"  God  forbid  that  I  should  lift  a  hand  against  my 
wife  !  She  is  dying  surely  enough  without  that ; 
the  burden  of  a  disappointed,  loveless  life  is 
killing  her." 

"  Killing  her  ?  "  unconsciously  Dorian  repeated 
the  words,  and  looked  up  with  that  mysterious 
glitter  in  her  e\es,  which  he  had  noticed  before. 


164  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

"  Yes  ;  I  give  you  my  word  it  is  true.  Life  is 
but  a  question  of  a  few  months  at  longest,  with 
her.  The  doctor  assured  me  only  last  night,  that 
her  heart  was  diseased,  and  the  malady  incurable. 
I  know — oh  Dorian,  I  know  it  is  heinous  of  me 
to  say  so  ;  but  it  was  your  image  that  rose  up  as 
a  barrier  between  my  eyes  and  sleep  after  I  had 
heard  this  ;  it  was  your  image  that  shut  me  out 
from  all  sense  of  regret,  and  bade  me  be  glad  that 
I  would  soon  be  free  from  the  bond  that  has  never 
been  congenial  to  me.  Do  not  abominate  me  for 
approaching  you  ere  the  title  is  mine  to  do  so  ; 
but  let  me  place  this  ring  upon  your  finger — it  is 
all  I  ask — as  a  talisman  of  faith  between  us.  If 
there  come  a  time  when  I  may  see  that  you  do 
not  wear  my  gift,  I  shall  interpret  by  its  absence 
that  you  repel  my  love;  otherwise,  until  that  day 
comes  when  I  can  bestow  a  more  deserving  title 
upon  you,  you  shall  reign  the  golden  incentive  of 
my  hopes." 

Many  flirtations  and  harmless  love  affairs 
could  Dorian  have  found  in  her  diary,  but  she 
had  come  out  of  them  all  unscathed — in  her  own 
eyes — and  the  thought  of  yielding  to  this  illicit 
wooing  was  distasteful  and  humiliating  to  her 
Spanish  pride. 

Sir  Philip  saw  her  eyes  fix  themselves  with 
quiet  curiosity  upon  the  circle  of  diamonds  which 
he  held  up  temptingly  between  his  forefinger  and 
thumb,  and  which  was  flashing  all  ivg,  varied  and 


THE  TALISMAN  165 

brilliant  lights  under  'the  reflection  of  a  culprit 
sunbeam  that  glanced  through  the  eastern 
window — he  saw  them  fix  themselves  there,  and 
watched  their  expression  of  curiosity  swiftly 
change  to  one  of  admiration,  then  bewilderment. 
At  last  he  noted  a  sudden  spasmodic  movement 
of  the  lace  upon  her  bosom,  as  she  shrank  away 
from  the  dazzling  glitter  of  gems,  with  a  pallid 
face  and  eyes  half  closed  with  some  new  emotion 
which  Sir  Philip  attributed  to  the  revolt  of  accept- 
ing such  a  valuable  gift  from  him. 

The  thought  made  him  bolder.  He  possessed 
himself  of  one  of  her  hands  with  a  sudden  action 
which  she  did  not  anticipate,  and  was  adjusting 
the  ring,  when  they  heard  footsteps  outside  the 
door. 

They  separated  quickly,  she  flying  to  one  of 
the  bookcases  under  pretense  of  examining  the 
titles  of  its  volumes,  he  cooly  walking  toward 
the  window  and  looking  out  upon  the  mist- 
swathed  river.  Thus  Alice  Meredith  found  them 
as  she  opened  the  door  and  looked  in  as  if  in 
search  of  some  one. 

"  Sir  Philip,"  said  the  young  girl,  "  I  wanted 
to  say  to  you  that  I  am  compelled  to  take  the 
11:  20  train  to  Boston,  if  I  can  possibly  make  the 
connection.  I  have  just  received  news  of  the  ill- 
ness of  my  sister.  Lady  Camden  is  sleeping 
quietly  under  an  opiate,  and  I  cannot  disturb 
her  ;  but  I  have  given  Anine  a  note  for  her  in 


166  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

which  I  have  made  due  explanations." 

Sir  Philip  bowed. 

"  Have  you  heard  if  there  are  any  others  want- 
ing to  go  by  that  train  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Dextrell  and  her  daughters  are 
going;  also  the  Elwoods  and  Lieutenant  Car- 
ruthers." 

"  Well — a — if  it  is  not  too  much  trouble,  give 
orders  for  the  sleigh  to  be  made  ready  at  once, 
will  you?" 

Alice  bowed  and  withdrew  hurriedly,  and  after 
a  few  whispered  words  to  Dorian,  Sir  Philip  also 
left  the  library  to  take  leave  of  his  departing 
guests. 

Left  alone,  Mrs.  Rossmore  plunged  into  an 
excited  soliloquy  which  was  couched  in  exclam- 
atory phrases  chiefly,  and  in  the  tongue  of  France, 
and  during  which  she  kept  her  eyes  riveted  upon 
the  ring  which  Sir  Philip  had  placed  upon  her 
finger,  among  whose  twelve  large  stones  there 
sparkled  a  single  emerald  of  marvelous  clearness 
and  brilliancy  of  color. 

"  Ceil !  one  emerald  and  eleven  diamonds ! 
What  a  coincidence  !  "  She  ended  with  a  strange 
laugh,  and  as  she  swept  from  the  library  a  few 
moments  later,  she  murmured  the  words  in  an 
ominous  undertone  :  "  Verily,  then,  Sir  Philip 
Camden,  the  ring  shall  be  a  talisman  between  our- 
selves" 

Once  in  the  hall,  she  turned  and  cast  a  fright- 


THE  TALISMAN  16T 

•ned  glance  over  her  shoulder,  as  if  she  half- 
expected  to  see  some  grim  apparition  following 
her,  and  the  voice  of  Fred  Bentwell  greeting  her 
abruptly,  made  her  cry  out  involuntarily.' 

"  Where  have  you  been,  Dorian  ?"  he  asked,  "I 
have  been  searching  everywhere  for  you.  Every- 
one is  leaving  Maplehurst  this  morning,  don't 
you  know  ?  " 

"  Are  you  ?  "  asked  Dorian,  recovering  herself. 

"  Are  you  ?  "  he  asked  evasively. 

"  No,  I  am  going  by  the  one-twenty." 

"lam,  too.  What  a  pretty  ring  !  I  never  saw 
you  wear  it  before — Dorian  !  Why  do  you  treat 
me  so  ?"  this  in  a  grieved  tone  as  she  snatched 
away  the  hand  which  he  had  made  an  attempt  at 
taking,  and  ran  softly  up  the  stairs,  not  even 
deigning  a  glance  back  to  where  he  stood  looking 
after  her  with  great  wounded,  almost  tearful  eyes. 


CHAPTER  XX 


Bright  eyed  Fancy  hovering  o'er, 

Scatters  from  her  pictured  urn 

Thoughts  that  breathe  and  words  that  burn. 

—Gray. 

THE  letter  received  from  her  mother  by  Alice 
that  morning  had  been  brief,  merely  stating 
that  Blanche  was  "  not  well  "  and  suggesting  that, 
though  they  apprehended  nothing  serious,  she  run 
home  for  a  few  days'  visit  to  gratify  the  child  who 
was  constantly  lamenting  her  absence. 

Despite  these  words  of  reassurance,  however, 
Alice  was  ill  at  ease  and  trembled  with  strange 
misgivings  when  at  length  she  paused  before  the 
many  gabled  stone  house  which  her  heart  still  re- 
joiced in  calling  "  home." 

For  an  instant  she  hesitated  outside  the  door 
to  listen  anxiously.  A  silence  intense  as  the 
grave  seemed  to  reign  within.  With  a  faltering 
hand  she  turned  the  silver  knob  and  passed 
noiselessly  into  the  gloom  of  the  great  hall,  where 
she  was  greeted  by  her  youngest  sister,  who  had 
been  on  the  look-out  for  her  all  the  forenoon,  and 
who  burst  from  the  library  crying,  "  Oh  Allie ! 
(168) 


BLANCHE  169 

Blanche  will  be  so  glad  you  are  come  !  She  has 
been  asking  for  you  constantly  to-day." 

"  Tell  me,  Olive,  darling,  how  long  has  she  been 
ailing  ?  Is  she  very  ill  ? "  Alice  questioned 
eagerly  as  she  bent  to  kiss  the  ready  lips. 

"She  has  been  sick  since  Tuesday,  but  the 
doctor  thinks  he  can  save  her  from  having  the 
fever  very  badly,  if  she  is  good  and  doesn't  fret 
over  her  writing." 

"  Writing  !  "'  repeated  Alice  in  a  puzzled  tone. 

"  Yes,  she  begs  for  her  pencil  and  tablet,  and 
the  doctor  told  mamma  not  to  let  her  have  them. 
He  says  writing  '11  make  her  head  worse," 
answered  the  child  still  vaguely. 

"  I  suppose  she  has  been  worrying  too  much 
over  her  school  exercises,"  thought  Miss  Meredith, 
as  she  suddenly  remembered  Blanche's  habit  of 
pursuing  her  studies  even  through  vacation 
weeks. 

A  few  moments  later  upon  entering  the  invalid's 
room  she  found  her  sister  sitting  up  in  a  deep  easy 
chair,  her  cheeks  glowing  as  with  in  ward  fire,  and 
her  blue  eyes  looking  far  larger  and  brighter  than 
was  natural,  as  they  fixed  themselves  joyously 
upon  her. 

After  a  lingering  caress,  (Blanche's  arms 
threatened  to  cling  forever  around  her  neck) 
Alice  drew  a  chair  very  close  and  taking  one  of 
the  short  quick-pulsing  hands  in  hers  she 
listened  as  Blanche  spoke  of  the  mysterious 


170  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

"  writing,"  which  she  said  had  been  her  treasured 
secret  since  the  day  after  their  father's  failure. 
"I,"  said  Blanche,  "commenced  my  story  on 
the  day  that  you  and  mamma  left  for  Ivendene, 
last  October.  I  was  not  certain  that  my  first 
literary  effort  would  prove  a  success,  so  I  worked 
.clandestinely  until  it  was  completed,  when  I  took 
mamma  into  my  confidence,  with  the  understand- 
ing that  she  was  not  to  hint  a  word  to  you  or  papa 
about  the  matter.  I  gave  her  the'  manuscript  to. 
examine,  and  the  composition  at  once  charmed 
and  amazed  her.  Her  words  of  praise  made  me 
sanguine  of  success,  and  without  delay  I  took  my 
story  to  one  of  our  most  popular  editors.  Unlike 
most  journalists,  he  did  not  keep  me  indefinitely 
on  the  anxious  seat,  but  at  once  read  and 
rendered  his  opinion  of  it.  While  he  was  not 
effusive  over  its  merits,  he  was  not  sparing  in 
expressions  of  encouragement.  He  bade  me  study 
assiduously,  gave  me  a  list  of  valuable  books  to 
read,  and  told  me  at  which  libraries  I  would  be 
certain  to  find  them.  He  also  explained  to  me 
the  simplest  and  most  perfect  method  of 
arranging  my  manuscripts  and " 

"What  is  it  darling?"  asked  Alice  as  the 
speaker  paused  abruptly  and  passed  her  hand  to 
her  temple. 

"  Oh,  it  was  only  one  of  those  shooting  pains  ;  I 
have  been  taking  quinine  ;  I  suppose  that  is  what 
causes  them,"  said  the  young  girl  deprecatingly, 


BLANCHE  171 

but  her  voice  was  not  quite  so  steady  as  before  as 
she  continued  : 

u  And — what  was  I  saying  ?  oh,  yes  !  and  he 
was  so  good  and  kind  and  generous.  What  do 
you  think  he  paid  me  for  my  story  ?" 

"  Ten  dollars  ?"  suggested  her  sister  after  a 
moment's  reflection. 

"  No,  twelve.      Wasn't  that  generous  of  him  ?" 

"  Oh,  so  generous  !  and  now  my  pet,  you  must 
not  talk  any  more,  it  is  not  well  for  you."  said 
Alice  gently,  as  she  felt  the  little  hand  in  hers 
grow  hotter  and  its  pulse  quicker. 

"  Oh  since  you  ""are  come  I  am  better,  much 
better  !  and  I  have  so  much  to  say  to  you," 
Blanche  went  on,  heedless  of  that  anxious 
admonition.  "  I  want  to  tell  you  how  I  came 
home  that  evening.  It  was  last  Monday  that  I 
took  the  manuscript,  and  sat  right  down  and 
studied  out  a  plot  for  my  next  story.  Oh,  it  will 
be  intricate  ;  full  of  passion  and  pathos  and 
originality,  it  will  compose  several  chapters, 
perhaps  will  lengthen  into  a  real  novel  —  oh, 
dear !" 

"  Blanche,  Blanche,  you  must  be  more  calm. 
You  are  making  yourself  worse." 

But  the  expression  of  intense  pain  was  gone, 
and  after  that  brief  vacant  look  in  the  eyes,  which 
Alice  noticed  had  followed  the  previous  paroxysm, 
the  invalid  continued  : 

"  Ma  says  she  will  convert  the  room  adjoining 


172  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

the  blue  suite  into  a  little  study  for  me,  where  all 
the  live-long  day  I  can  write,  shut  away  from 
every  soul  and  with  only  my  books  for  compan- 
ions." 

Suddenly  she  paused  and  looked  at  her  sister 
with  glistening  eyes. 

"  You  are  so  calm,  so  cold,  so  incredulous  !  " 
she  cried.  "  You  think  me  raving.  I  know  you  do; 
but  I  am  not  !  Ah  no  ;  mine  is  a  perfectly 
rational  happiness  ;  such  joy  as  mine  ambition 
finds.  Wait !  after  a  few  years  of  earnest,  pains- 
taking labor,  you  will  be  ready  enough  to  believe 

in  my  talent.  I  have  talent,  Mr.  L ,  the  editor, 

says  so,  ma  says  so,  pa  says  so;  all  say  so,  but 
you." 

"  Oh,  you  dear,  foolish  little  thing  !  I  am  all 
that  a  sister  could  possibly  be  in  my  sentiments 
of  love  and  pride  and  credulity.  Don't  you 
remember  how  I  used  to  praise  your  little  child 
essays  ?  how  I  used  to  call  you  a  true  little  ideal- 
ist when  you  would  bring  me  your  pretty  flower 
fables  to  read  ?  "  said  Alice  as  she  put  back  the 
long  tangled  curls  from  the  now  tearful  face  of 
her  sister. 

"  But  I — I  thought  you  would  be  a — all  enthus- 
iasm over  my  first  real  story,"  sobbed  Blanche, 
burying  her  face  among  the  cushions  of  her  chair 
and  giving  herself  up  to  a  violent  fit  of  weeping. 

In  very  despair,  after  she  had  spent  moments 


BLANCHE  173 

in  vainly  trying  to  soothe  her,  Alice  summoned 
her  mother. 

Nothing,  however,  did  Mrs.  Meredith's  presence 
avail.  She  entered  the  room  just  at  the  instant 
when  her  daughter  sank  from  the  hysterical  par- 
oxysm into  a  swoon  so  white  and  still,  that 
"  death  itself  seemed  there  ;  "  and  ere  night  she 
had  passed  into  the  most  malignant  form  of  brain 
fever. 

"Oh,  why  did  I  not  speak  out  all  my  heart's 
praise  of  her  ? "  sobbed  Alice,  in  frantic  self- 
reproach,  as  she  knelt  beside  the  raving  girl. 

"In  my  anxiety  lest  any  undue  enthusiasm 
would  have  but  added  to  her  excitement,  I  sup- 
pressed my  feelings,  and  my  seeming  coldness  has 
brought  about  this  dread  issue  !  " 

"  No,"  said  her  mother,  "  it  was  to  be  so.  It  is 
what  has  been  threatening  from  the  first.  The 
doctor  has  been  guarding  against  it  and  we  have 
hoped,  by  diverting  her  mind  from  those  involv- 
ing dream  fancies,  to  subdue  the  brooding  fever  ; 
but  all  my  inventions  proved  useless.  I  would 
read  to  her,  but  no  author,  however  clever,  could 
detract  her  thoughts  from  those  ideal  labyrinths. 
She  would  always  sit  with  her  eyes  fixed  on 
vacancy,  as  if  they  were  striving  to  pierce  some 
uncertain  vista  of  thought,  and  with  her  lips 
moving  rapidly,  though  inaudibly.  When  I 
would  not  give  her  her  pencil  and  tablet,  she 
became  vexed  and  cried  for  you.  She  was  certain 


174  THE  BRIDE  OF  1KFEL1CE 

that  Allie  would  be  kinder. "  She  wanted  you  ; 
she  craved  for  you  with  almost  every  breath,  and 
when  you  came,  the  tension  of  her  nerves  gave 
way,  leaving  the  fever  to  triumph." 

"  But  if  I  had  never  gone  away— if  I  had  been 
here  from  the  first,  she  would  have  been  spared 
all  that  torture  of  longing  and  fretting  for  me 
Oh,  I  have  been  cruel  !  I  have  been  selfishly 
heedless  of  all  save  my  own  pleasures  !  "  sobbed 
Alice,  miserably. 

"  Do  not  say  that,  dear  child,"  gently  remon- 
strated her  mother.  "You  are  unjust  to  your- 
self." 

But  Alice  would  not  be  comforted.  She  knelt 
there  motionless — her  trembling  hands  clasped 
together,  her  eyes  full  of  infinite  sadness,  fixed 
upon  the  sufferer,  and  her  senses  paralyzed  to  all, 
save  the  inarticulate  babble  of  those  dry,  parched 
lips.  So  the  dreary  hours  dragged  on,  she  now 
and  then  rising  to  lave  anew  the  patient's  hot 
forehead,  only  to  resume  her  crouching  posture 
at  the  bedside.  Toward  midnight  the  tempera- 
ture of  the  weather  changed,  and  from  the  eaves 
without,  melting  snow  kept  up  a  steady  "  drip-a- 
drip-a-drip,"  which  was  the  only  sound  to  be  heard 
during  the  brief  intervals  of  silence  when 
Blanche's  lips  were  still.  Thus,  when  an 
avalanche,  becoming  loosened  from  the  roof,  fell 
with  a  dull,  heavy  thud  to  the  ground  below  the 
window  of  the  sick-room,  Alice  started  suddenly 


BLANCHE  175 

from  her  apathy  with  a  terror-stricken  face ;  it 
had  sounded  so  like  the  fall  of  earth  into  a  new- 
made  grave — ah,  so  cruelly  like  ! — and  what  were 
those  doleful,  soul-stirring  words  which  she 
seemed  to  hear  now  breathed  through  the  stillness, 
as  if  born  from  a  sepulcher  ?  They  are  old — they 
are  the  world's  first  story ;  they  have  been 
sounded  through  infinite  ages  ;  they  are  ringing 
to-day  ;  to-morrow  will  be  ringing,  and  so  on 
unto  the  end  of  time,  as  far  as  the  "universe 
spreads  its  flaming  walls." 

Earth  to  earth,  dust  to  dust,  ashes  to  ashes. 

The  words  seemed  to  come  now  as  a  precursor 
of  doom,  and  she  shrank  from  them  with  an 
agonized  cry. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE    SPIDER   AND   THE    FLY 

Tremble,  thou  wretch, 
That  hast  within  thee  undivulged  crimes 
Unwhipped  of  justice. 

— Shakespeare. 

IT  was  Thursday  night. 
Sir  Philip  Camden  seemed  ill  at  ease  as  he 
glanced  at  the  dial  of  the  clock  whose  hour-hand 
indicated  a  quarter  of  ten. 

Fifteen  minutes  more  and  he  would  stand  face 
to  face  with  M.  Alphonse  Pavraud,  his  would-be 
assizor — the  object  of  his  life's  fiercest  hatred. 
Fifteen  minutes  more,  and  the  "  dead  past "  would 
be  resurrected  through  the  medium  of  one  whose 
"  soul  he  fain  would  sear  with  his  brimstone 
curses  ;"  whose  body  he  ought  to  have  seen 
wrapped  in  its  grave-shroud  ere  he  had  turned 
his  face  from  Europe,  seven  years  ago. 

What  page  in  his  mysterious  past  record  could 
have  been  so  black  that  he  shuddered  and  grew 
pale,  stoical  man  though  he  was,  at  the  thought 
of  turning  back  to  it,  after  so  long  ?  What  crime 
so  foul  impregnated  his  life  that  he  grew  dizzy 
and  almost  reeled,  as  it  rose  up  now,  in  ghastly 
hideousness,  to  menace  him  ? 
(176) 


THE  SPIDER  AND  THE  FLY  177 

The  December  night  was  one  of  intensest  fury. 
What  with  the  steady  soughing  of  the  winds,  the 
clashing  of  the  naked  birch  trees  beneath  them, 
the  black  sheets  of  rain,  accompanied  by  lurid 
darts  of  lightning  and  now  and  then  earthquak- 
ing peals  of  thunder,  made  mightier  by  the  deep 
reverberations  which  they  woke  along  the  risen 
waters  of  the  Merrimac,  all  the  demons  of  inferno 
seemed  to  have  been  let  loose  in  the  elements. 

But  within  the  library  at  Maplehurst,  in  which 
apartment  Sir  Philip  awaited  the  coming  of  his 
guest,  all  was  at  delightful  variance  with  the  outer 
tempests.  A  huge  pine-log  roared  and  crackled 
in  the  deep  open  fireplace,  its  red  radiance  put- 
ting to  shame  the  pale  light  which  streamed  from 
the  many-jetted  chandelier,  and  throwing  into 
bold  relief  each  object  of  the  room,  from  the 
statues  of  the  poets  to  the  tiers  of  books  reaching 
almost  to  the  ceiling.  Near  the  center  of  the 
room  stood  a  small  India  table,  upon  which  were 
temptingly  £et  out  several  decanters  and  glasses, 
.and  a  case  of  choice  cigars. 

Here  reigned  the  spirit  of  luxury  in  all  his  su- 
premacy, and  as  the  master  of  Maplehurst  paced 
to  and  fro,  with  the  restlessness  of  a  caged  beast, 
he  occasionally  lifted  his  eyes  from  the  floor  to 
take  a  careful  survey  of  the  apartment,  at  which 
moments  his  face  would  change  its  scowling  look 
to  an  expression  of  triumph,  in  which  was  min- 
gled a  sneering  defiance  ;  while  he  would  move 


178  THE  BRIDE  OF  JNFELICE 

as  if  suddenly  inspired  with  new  ease  and  self- 
reliance.  Thus  with  the  shadow  of  the  Avenger 
and  the  more  palpable  form  of  Satan  alternately 
there  as  his  companions,  minute  succeeded  min- 
ute until  at  last  ten  slow  and  muffled  strokes 
resounded  through  the  stillness. 

Almost  as  the  last  one  died,  footsteps  were 
heard  coming  along  the  tiled  floor  outside  the 
library.  At  the  sound  Sir  Philip  hastily  seated 
himself  near  the  reading  table,  in  a  well-assumed 
attitude,  as  if  being  engrossed  with  the  journals 
which  were  scattered  about  him. 

The  footsteps  ceased,  and  there  catne  the  ser- 
vant's conventional  rap  upon  the  door.  There 
was  nothing  of  their  recent  hatred  in  Sir  Philip's 
eyes  as,  at  the  announcement  of,  "  Monsieur,  the 
Frenchman,"  he  glanced  up  quietly  as  though 
"  monsieur  "  had  been  an  utter  stranger. 

He  made  a  gesture  for  his  guest  to  enter,  with- 
out rising,  or  making  any  change  whatever  in  his 
position — not  even  did  he  lay  aside  the  paper 
which  he  held — and  with  a  nod  dismissed  the 
servant. 

As  Monsieur  Favraud  stepped  inside  the  room, 
his  eyes,  having  been  long  accustomed  to  the 
darkness  without,  blinked  as  they  came  in  con- 
tact with  the  strong  fire-light ;  but  there  was 
nothing  of  embarrassment  in  his  mien  when  he 
encountered  all  the  Oriental  splendor  about  him 
and  Sir  Philip  sitting  there,  looking;  a  veritable 


THE  SPIDER  AKD  THE  FLY  179 

Sultan  in  his  robes  of  purple  and  gold  (he  wore 
his  dressing  gown)  and  with  his  fat  feet  incased 
in  embroidered  slippers  and  resting  luxuriously 
upon  an  ottoman  of  gold-embossed  velvet.  His 
withered,  half-starved  looking  face  even  wore  an 
amused  smile  as,  without  a  word,  he  advanced 
toward  the  chair  indicated  by  his  host  and  seated 
himself,  crossing  his  legs  as  if  in  sly  mimicry  of 
Sir  Philip's  own  attitude. 

Monsieur  Favraud  was  a  man  of  perhaps  forty 
years  of  age,  and  might  once  have  been  of  prepos- 
sessing presence,  but  his  face  was  now  prematurely 
worn  and  stamped  with  the  traces  of  dissipation  ; 
his  crisp  black  hair  was  streaked  with  grey,  and 
clung  in  unkampt  bits  about  his  ears  and  collar- 
less  neck;  his  eyes  were  black,  and  keen  and 
bright  as  those  of  a  fox  ;  and  they  floated  perpet- 
ually about  in  their  orbits  with  an  expression 
half  cynical,  half  cunning. 

After  they  had  leisurely  taken  in  each  separate 
piece  of  furniture  and  bric-a-brac,  had  carefully 
studied  the  texture  of  the  carpet,  had  winked  and 
blinked  at  the  well-bound  volumes,  had  squinted 
at  the  busts  of  Shakespeare  and  of  Milton  and  of 
Schiller,  they  leveled  themselves  upon  the  coun- 
tenance of  ?^r  Philip  Camden. 

For  full  sixty  seconds  the  two  men  sat  staring 
at  each  other  in  strained  silence,  when  each  broke 
out  simultaneously  with  the  one  word  : 

"  Well  t " 


180  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

Pause  ;  during  which  the  Frenchman  watched 
the  face  of  his  vis-a-vis  grow  dark  as  a  thunder- 
bolt under  his  cool,  penetrating  gaze — a  gaze  in 
which  there  was  not  merely  coolness  and  penetra- 
tion, but  amusement,  triumph  and  defiance  as 
well 

At  length  Sir  Philip  spoke  : 

"I  had  scarcely  expected  you  to  keep  your 
appointment  on  such  a  night  as  this,  mon  ami. 
By  Jove  !  you  must  have  traveled  through  water 
enough  to  swim  a  ship." 

His  attempt  at  pleasantry  was  accompanied  by 
a  swift  glance  from  the  dripping  hair  to  the  soaked 
hoots  of  his  guest ;  and  while  he  feigned  indiffer- 
ence at  sight  of  the  muddy  little  stream  of  water 
which  was  trickling  from  his  clothes  and  forming 
an  ugly  dark  spot  upon  the  crimson  velvet  car- 
pet, Monsieur  Favraud  did  not  fail  to  see  the 
sneer  which  lurked  about  the  scarred  lip  under 
his  moustache,  and  which  belied  his  calm. 

"  Ha  !  "  laughed  the  Frenchman,  as  he,  too, 
glanced  down  upon  the  stain,  "upon  my  word  it 
ts  too  bad  that  you  were  compelled  to  receive  me 
in  this  sad  plight,  my  liege.  Thunder,  lightning 
and  rain  did  somewhat  mar  the  pleasure  of  my 
ride, — and  my  fine  clothes.  But  I  am  still  as 
rugged  as  when  last  you  knew  me ;  rugged,  in 
fact,  as  the  proverbial  Russian  bear,  ha,  ha  I  and 
I  would  have  dared  to  ride  those  seven  miles 
through  fire  and  brimstone,  rather  than  have  sac- 


THE  SPIDER  AND  THE  FLY  181 

rificed  this  meeting.  Ahem  !  "Arising  and  stretching 
himself,  "  but  this  is  what  I  call  real  luxury  !  By 
your  permission,  milord,  I  will  sit  nearer  the  fire 
to  dry  my  clothes,  and  (if  you  don't  mind  waiting 
on  me)  I  would  not  refuse  one  of  your  cheering 
draughts — I  have  not  forgotten  how  well  you  can 
mix  a  draught — how  excellently  well  /" 

Sir  Philip  inly  writhed  ;  but  his  actions  being 
almost  invariably  in  opposition  to  his  thoughts, 
he  rose  and  studiously  arranged  a  chair  upon  the 
huge  bear-skin  in  front  of  the  fire  ;  then  with  his 
usual  deliberation,  after  Favraud  was  seated 
therein,  he  set  to  work  to  concoct  the  drink,  the 
water  for  which  he  heated  upon  a  small  alcohol 
lamp  which  sat  close  at  hand. 

Monsieur  Favraud  sat  watching  his  every 
movement  through  half-shut  eyelids,  and  when 
the  stimulant  was  ready,  Sir  Philip  moved  the 
India  stand  up  to  the  hearth,  and,  seating  himself 
opposite  his  guest,  they  both  sipped  for  a  moment 
in  silence,  after  which  space  of  time,  Favraud 
observed,  nonchalantly  : 

"  You  were  surprised  to  learn  of  my  being  in 
America,  doubtless,  eh,  Sir  Philip  ?  " 

"  Surprised  ?  Well — a — yes  ;  but  not  disagree- 
ably so.  I  was  gratified  to  know — I  was — " 

"  Tickled  to  think  I  had  escaped  the  noose  as 
well  as  yourself,  eh  ?  " 

"  Chut !  not  so  loud— yes." 

"  Ha  !.  tongue  as  smooth  as  ever,  old  chap  !     I 


182  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

do  not  believe  you;  pardon,  monsieur,  I  know  your 
sly  tricks  and  ways  !  I  have  not  forgotten  how 
you  duped  me  once  by  your  devilish  suavity.  I 
have  not  forgotten  poor  Julie — " 

"  Hush  !  not  so  loud,  for  God's  sake  !  my  name 
and  reputation  are  well  established  in  America. 
Do  not  rummage  among  rotten  leaves  !" 

"If  I  were  more  beast  and  less  human  I  would 
scratch  among  them  until  I  had  unburied  that 
moldy  carcass  which  you  have  hidden  from  the 
world,  and  perdition  catch  my  soul,  if  I  wouldn't 
prove  you  the  hound  you  used  me,  and  carry  the 
rot  with  your  name  on  it  to  the  Lord  High 
Executioner  of  France  !  Ha  !  you  would  have 
triumphed  over  my  broken  neck  ;  but  I  cheated 
you.  Circumstantial  evidence  is  by  no  means  a 
sure-footed  ground  for  the  law  to  stand  on  !  " 

With  this,  M.  Favraud  coolly  selected  and  lit 
a  cigar,  at  which  he  puffed  away  in  keen  enjoy- 
ment for  a  moment;  then  shifting  the  weed  to  the 
corner  of  his  mouth,  he  went  on  : 

"  The  Paris  detectives  are  assiduous,  persever- 
ing, indomitable  ;  do  not  make  too  certain  of  your 
safety,  Philip— pardon !  Sir  Philip.  The  world 
is  small,  remember,  and  it  is  difficult  to  find  a 
secure  hiding  place  in  it." 

Again  Sir  Philip  writhed  inly,  and  again 
checked  the  hot  curses  which  rose  to  his  lips. 

"  But,"  said  he,  leaning  over  the  table,  and 
lowering  his  voice  to  a  whisper,  %''by  what 


THE  SPIDER  AXD  THE  FLY  183 

possible  chance  could  they  be  led  to  suspect,  let 
alone  prove  me,  unless  you  yourself  would  pro- 
claim the  denouement  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  dupe  the  law  without  a  purpose," 
said  M.  Favraud,  "  I  was  not  insane  for  weeks 
after  my  imprisonment ;  I  had  not  forgotten  the 
past  completely  as  if  it  had  never  existed  when 
my  reason  returned,  all  for  nothing,  mon  ami  !  I 
would  have  profited  nothing  from  justice  had  I 
chosen  to  criminate  you  ;  but  by  cheating  them 
of  an  evidence  which  would  have  put  them  on 
your  track  I  promised  myself  (in  your  name)  a 
handsome  compensation." 

"  At  what  price  do  you  estimate  your  services?" 

"  Fifty  thousand  dollars  down  will  do  to  com- 
mence with,  and  a  signed  contract,  which  I  have 
written  out  and  which  secures  me  a  yearly  allow- 
ance of  money  ;  also  a  passport  into  the  world 
that  acknowledges  you  as  Sir  Philip  Camden." 

Sir  Philip  sat  briefly  regarding  his  guest  with- 
out responding.  Then  he  said  :  "  Oh,  very  well ! 
A — Let  me  read  the  paper." 

Monsieur  Favraud,  after  some  difficulty,  pro- 
duced the  document,  and  after  looking  it  over  and 
finding  fault  with  the  bad  ink  in  which  the 
clauses  were  written,  his  host  signed  them,  and 
also  affixed  his  signature  to  a  check  011  his 
banker  for  fifty  thousand  dollars. 

These  he  folded  and  enclosed,  then  said,  as  he 
handed  the  packet  to  his  triumphant  companion : 


184  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICS 

"You  had  better  see  a  tailor  the  first  thing 
to-morrow,  permit  me  to  suggest." 

"  Thanks,  I  shall,"  said  Monsieur,  with 
ludicrous  humility,  "  and  now  will  you  tell  me," 
he  asked  when  the  leathern  pocket-book  with  its 
precious  contents  was  safely  tucked  away  in  hia 
inside  pocket,  "  will  you  tell  me,  if  aside  from 
this  magnificent  country  retreat,  you  support  also 
a  maison  de  ville  ?  " 

"  No  ;  "  said  Sir  Philip,  "  we  will  occupy  winter 
apartments  at  an  hotel." 

"  I  hear  your  wife  is  beautiful,"  observed  Mon- 
sieur Favraud,  but  Sir  Philip  pretended  not  to 
have  heard  the  allusion  to  Lady  Hortense. 

"  Let  me  replenish  your  glass,"  said  he,  lifting, 
as  he  spoke,  the  steaming  and  spicy  beverage 
from  the  alcohol  flame  over  which  he  had  been 
holding  it.  "  Drink  to " 

"  To  the  health  of  Maurice  Dubois  !"  intercepted 
the  Frenchman.  "  That  being,"  he  added,  "  the 
cognomen  under  which  I  desire  to  be  recognized 
in  my  new  life." 

So,  accordingly,  the  toast  was  pledged,  and  Sir 
Philip  could  scarce  conceal  his  evil  triumph  ae 
he  watched  the  last  drop  disappear  from  the 
Frenchman's  glass, 

"You  will  not  attempt  to  ride  back  to  L 

t®-night,"  he  observed,  as  a  few  minutes  later  M. 
Favraud  took  up  his  hat,  and  began  straighten- 


THE  SPIDER  AND  THE  FLY  185 

ing  its  damp  and  shapeless  brim,  as  if  preparing 
for  departure. 

"Certainly  I  shall,"  replied  the  Frenchman, 
sleepily,  "  Thunder  and  lightning,  and  rain,  could 
not  prevent  me.  I  [yawn],  I  am  a  bird  of  all 
weathers,  and  am  as  [yawn],  as  rugged  as  a  Rus- 
sian bear.  Those  papers  !  did  I  put  them — yes, 
they  are  safe  in  my  pocket-book.  I  say  Philip 
[yawn],  how  many  glasses  of  punch  have  I 
taken  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  quite  enough  to  make  you  tipsy," 
answered  mine  host,  laughing  silently. 

"Not  by  a  jug-full  am  I  tipsy.  I  believe  you 
have  drugged  me  again,  you  consummate  vil- 
lain !" 

He  rose  and  attempted  to  walk  across  the  floor, 
but  tottered  and  reeled  against  the  table,  almost 
overturning  it. 

Sir  Philip  made  an  angry  exclamation  as  the 
glasses  clashed  together  noisily.  He  feared  the 
disturbance  would  bring  one  of  the  servants  to 
the  library,  and  the  thought  made  him  turn  blue 
in  the  face,  for  it  was  the  one  thing  he  did  not 
want  to  happen. 

He  waited  a  moment  until  all  was  silent  again  ; 
then  he  assisted  the  man  back  to  his  chair. 

"  You  had  better  come  with  me  upstairs,  Fav- 
raud,  and  go  to  bed,"  he  said,  as  he  did  so.  "  The 
storm  still  continues,  and  you  are  in  no  condition 
to  ride  seven  miles. alone,  and  with  those  papers 


186  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

in  your  pocket  ;  come,  be  reasonable  !  You  can 
slip  down  the  back  stairs  in  the  morning  as  early 
as  suits  you,  and  go  quietly  away  from  Maple- 
hurst." 

"  But  my  horse,  my  horse  ?  "  hiccoughed  the 
Frenchman  uneasily. 

"  I  will  take  care  that  nothing  troubles  your 
horse.  He  shall  be  waiting  for  you." 

"  Oh,  you — you — hie — curse  you  !  I  know  your 
tricks  and — hie — "  the  sentence  was  not  finished. 
Monsieur  Favraud  had  collapsed  into  a  deadly 
stupor.  Sir  Philip  stood  over  his  victim  possessed 
with  a  horrible  feeling,  which  made  him  want  to 
shout  in  his  awful  exultation.  But  no  sound 
escaped  him. 

He  stooped  over  the  half-famished  body  of  the 
Frenchman,  and,  taking  it  up  in  his  strong  arms, 
he  passed  with  it  from  the  room,  and  thence 
through  a  small  corridor  leading  to  the  back  stairs. 
Up  these  he  toiled  with  his  lifeless  burden  ;  and 
in  less  than  fifteen  minutes  he  returned  to  the 
library  with  his  villainous  night's  work  com- 
pleted. Monsieur  Alphonse  Favraud  was  a  pris- 
oner in  the  towers  of  Maplehurst. 


CHAPTER    XXII 

A   SUBTERFUGE 

I  had  a  dream  which,  was  not  all  a  dream. 

—Byron's  "  DARKNESS." 

HOW  to  defend  himself  against  his  secret 
threatening  foe,  had  been  the  all  engrossing 
subject  of  Sir  Philip  Camden's  thoughts  since  the 
night  of  the  ball,  when  Monsieur  Favraud  had 
made  known  to  him  his  ominous  presence,  and 
now  with  the  successful  issue  of  his  scheming, 
he  felt  himself  once  more  an  enfranchised  son 
of  Fortune,  and  as  he  returned  to  the  library  he 
drew  the  first  breath  of  freedom  that  he  had 
known  for  a  week. 

As  he  sat  silently  gloating  over  the  splendid 
success  of  his  plot  to  get  rid  of  the  Frenchman, 
he  congratulated  the  fates  for  relieving  him  of 
his  valet  by  confining  him  to  his  room  with 
quinsy  ;  for  he  had  trusted  Tate  as  far  as  he 
desired,  in  admitting  to  him  that  he  had  been 
watched,  and  in  employing  him  as  an  embassador 
as  far  as  the  line  of  discretion.  From  this  to  the 
end  of  the  chapter  he  would  rule  sole  master  of 
his  secret.  There  yet,  however,  remained  one 
obstacle  to  overthrow  in  order  to  secure  himself. 
(187) 


188  THE  URIDE  OF  INFELICE 

Barthblemew,  the  footman,  who  had  announced 
his  late  visitor,  was  doubtless  at  that  very 
moment  awaiting  in  the  servant's  hall  to  be 
summoned  to  see  him  forth.  It  was  expedient 
for  Earth  to  be  at  once  dismissed  from  service  at 
Maplehurst. 

Sir  Philip  arose  and  rang  the  bell.  Then  he 
went  to  his  secretary  and  counted  out  some 
money  in  greenbacks. 

While  thus  engaged  the  footman  entered  the 
library  and  stood  waiting  to  be  addressed. 

"  I  rang  for  you  ten  minutes  ago.  Why  did 
you  not  answer  my  summons  at  once  ?"  Sir 
Philip  demanded  at  length,  as  he  lifted  his 
scowling  visage  from  the  roll  of  bills  and  glared 
at  the  man. 

"  I  did  not  hear  the  bell,  your  honor,"  answered 
the  footman^paling  beneath  the  look.  • 

"Why  didn't  you  hear  it  ?" 

"Guess  I  must  ha'  been  asleep,  y'r  honor." 

"  Asleep,  eh  ?  For  how  long  were  you  asleep  ?" 

"  I  guess  nigh  on  to  an  hour,  y'r  honor." 

"  Slothful  puppet !  Dolt  !  Well,  my  guest^  is 
gone.  I  have  humiliated  myself  by  performing 
the  office  of  footman.  You  can  leave  Maplehurst 
as  early  as  suits  you  to-morrow.  I  am  done  with 
your  services.  Here  is  your  month's  pay  ;  take  it 
and  get  out  of  my  sight !" 

The  servant  took  the  money  and  went  away 
crest-fallen,  and  soon  after  Sir  Philip,  having 


A  SUBTERFUGE  189 

concluded  his  role  for  this  night,  betook  him 
toward  his  own  bed-chamber. 

He  was  passing  by  Lady  Hortense's  apartments 
when  the  thought  suddenly  seized  him  : 

"  She  or  Anine  may  have  been  spying  upon  my 
movements.  I  will  just  look  in  to  convince 
myself  whether  they  are  asleep." 

Stealthily  he  lifted  the  heavy  silken  portieres 
which  divided  the  ante-chamber  from  the  bed- 
room, and  noiselessly  crossed  the  threshold. 

A  dim  light  revealed  the  lilac  draped  bed  with 
its  sleeping  occupant,  lying  with  one  white  bare 
arm  enthroned  above  her  head  and  her  beautiful 
face  a  trifle  flushed  as  if  with  exciting  dreams. 
Her  hair,  unconfined,  escaped  from  the  pillow 
and  fell  to  the  carpet  in  waves  of  luxuriant 
beauty  ;  while  now  and  then  her  bosom  rose  and 
fell  quickly,  as  if  shaken  by  some  strong  under- 
current of  emotion.  As  Sir  Philip  moved  toward 
the  bed  cautiously,  she  stirred  slightly  and 
uttered  a  little  half-gasping  cry,  similar  to  that 
made  by  a  drowning  person  ;  then  as  she  settled 
back  into  her  former  position  he  saw  her  lips 
move  and  heard  these  words  escape  them : 

"Blood-dyed  waters  murmuring  far  below." 

Again  she  moved,  and  now  there  was  a 
perceptible  fluttering  of  the  eyelids.  Fearful 
lest  she  were  awakening  and  would  become 
needlessly  alarmed  at  his  presence,  (he  hated 
scenes)  he  stepped  backward  into  the  shadow  of 


190  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

the  alcove  draperies  and  as  he  did  so  his  foot 
came  suddenly  in  contact  with  Anine's  pallet, 
which  since  Lady  Hortense's  illness  the  girl  had 
been  wont  to  bring  in  and  arrange  within 
convenient  call  of  her  mistress. 

"  Milady  !"  cried  the  ever  wakeful  girl,  starting 
breathlessly  into  a  sitting  posture  as  Sir  Philip's 
foot  touched  her.  "  Milady — Monsieur,  what  is 
it  ?  has  anything  happened  to  my  mistress  ?" 

The  dark  face  bent  over  her  ;  she  could  feel  the 
hot  offensive  breath  upon  her  face. 

"  Shut  up  1 "  Sir  Philip  whispered  fiercely. 
"  Nothing  has  happened.  I  just  stepped  in  to 
see  if  your  mistress  slept  well.  You  will  waken 
her  by  your  infernal  gabble  !  " 

He  let  his  hand  fall  heavily  upon  her  shoulder 
as  he  finished  speaking,  and  thrust  her  back  upon 
the  pillows,  where  the  poor  girl  lay  tremulously 
watching  him  as  he  carefully  withdrew  from  the 
room. 

"  Strange  man  ! "  she  muttered  to  herself  as 
she  heard  the  ante-chamber  door  close  behind 
him.  "  Why  came  he  to  my  lady's  chamber  at 
this  hour  ?  He  is  a  strange,  strange  man,  and  I 
like  him  not.  Of  late  I  have  come  to  look  upon 
him  with  instinctive  fear  and  suspicion." 

At  this  moment  there  came  a  terrified  shriek 
from  her  mistress'  bed. 

"  Merciful  Heaven  !  Save  me  !  "  she  screamed. 

With  the  agility  of  a  fawn,  Anine  ^sprang  up- 


A  SUBTERFUGE  191 

right,  and  the  next  moment  was  beside  Lady 
Hortense. 

"  Milady,  Milady,"  she  said  gently,  and  at  the 
sound  of  her  voice  Lady  Hortense  ceased  her  con- 
vulsive breathing,  opened  her  eyes  and  sprang 
into  a  sitting  posture. 

For  a  moment  ehe  sat  staring  before  her  with 
dilated  eyes,  and  with  one  hand  clutched  tightly 
over  her  .heart,  whose  pulsation  came  so  loudly 
that  Anine  heard  every  throe  plainly. 

"Milady,  you  have  been  dreaming  some 
unpleasant  dream,"  said  the  girl  as  she  bent  over 
her  reassuringly. 

"  Dreaming  ? — then  it — it  was  not  reality  ?  — 
You  are  here  Anine  ?  " 

Lady  Hortense  let  her  hand  stray  tremulously 
up  and  down  the  white-clad  form  as  she  spoke  ; 
and  then  as  she  convinced  herself  that  it  was  not 
a  wraith  of  her  dream,  she  sank  back  upon  the 
pillows  and  covered  her  face  with  both  hands, 
shuddering  violently. 

"  Oh  !  it  was  all  so  horrible — so  horrible  !  "  she 
gasped,  and  all  through  the  remaining  hours  of 
the  night  she  lay  unable  to  close  her  eyes  again 
in  slumber,  for  fear  it  would  return — that  dream 
"  which  was  not  all  a  dream." 

The  next  morning,  as  she  sat  alone  over  a  late 
breakfast,  Sir  Philip  sent  word  that  as  soon  as  con- 
venient he  wished  to  confer  with  her  on  a  matter 


192  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFEL1CE 

of  moment,  and  would  be  awaiting  her  in  the 
library. 

"I  have  taken  apartments  in  town  for  the 
winter,"  he  said,  when  a  few  moments  later  she 
stood  before  him.  "  Have  Anine  pack  your  trunks 
immediately,  as  I  want  to  have  you  conveyed  to 
L in  time  for  the  3:  20  train  this  afternoon." 

Lady  Hortense,  though  taken  aback  by  this 
sudden  announcement,  only  said  :  "  I  thought  we 
were  not  to  leave  Maplehurst  before  the  holidays. 
However,  I  shall  be  ready." 

He  scanned  narrowly  the  face  towering  above 
him,  like  a  proud  and  flawless  lily,  the  face  which 
each  day  was  growing  more  white  and  spirituelle 
in  its  loveliness,  and  after  a  moment  she  turned 
from  the  surveillance,  thinking  he  had  nothing 
more  to  say.  But  she  had  proceeded  only  a  few 
steps  toward  the  door,  when  he  arrested  her  with 
that  peculiar  guttural  sound  which  she  had  come 
to  despise  :  "  A — Mrs.  Rossrnore  commences  her 
series  of  'at-homes'  to-night.  We  will  go." 

At  these  peremptory  words  she  turned  and 
again  faced  him  ;  and  he  smiled  to  himself  as  he 
noted  the  scornful  curl  of  her  lips. 

"  Go,  you,  Sir  Philip,  by  all  means,"  said  she. 
Then  she  added  resolutely,  and  with  an  arrogant 
backward  movement  of  the  head,  "  I  shall  not 
attend  Mrs.  Rossmore's  cat  homes.'  I  shall  not 
go  into  society  at  all  this  winter." 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 


A  SUBTERFUGE  193 

"Oh!  that  as  you  please,  Lady  Camden ; 
however,  I  should  advise  you  to  reflect  well 
before  making  yourself  such  a  recluse  ;  it  would 
only  make  your  misery  ten  times  the  harder  to 
bear,  and  would  by  no  means  be  a  safeguard 
against  esclandre.  It  is  already  being  whispered 
about  in  our  circle  that  your  modern  Glaucus 
will  marry  your  proteg/e,  Miss  Meredith.  You 
will  make  the  world  say  that  you  are  dying  of 
jealousy." 

She  closed  her  hands  with  a  quick  spasm  of 
pain,  then  swiftly  recovering  herself,  replied  : 
"  All  the  world  may  say  so  ;  but  God  will  know 
the  truth.  He  will  know  it  is  not  so  !  He  will 
not  super  such  false  accusations  to  prosper 
against  the  innocent  I  " 

As  she  spoke  she  regarded  him  fixedly  with  eyes 
of  fiery  resentment.  So  intensely  at  that  moment 
did  he  hate  her  beautiful,  proud,  yet  scoffing 
image  that  it  was  only  by  a  great  effort  he  re- 
pressed the  impulse  to  curse  her  aloud,  as  he  had 
often  cursed  her  in  the  secret  vileness  of  himself. 

"Heaven  knows,  my  dear,"  he  said,  when  his 
angry  paroxysm  had  passed,  and  now  his  voice 
was  smothered  in  derisive  laughter,  "  that  there 
are  a  great  many  wrong  and  unjust  things  said  in 
this  world.  How  many  innocent  ones  like  your- 
self are  daily  branded  with  foulest  calumny!  Now, 
if  you  had  only  allowed  yourself  to  love  me,  as  I 


194  THE  BRIDE  OF  1NFELICE 

deserve  to  be  loved,  what  a  safeguard  you  would 
have  found  the  bonds  of  wedlock  ! " 

At  his  words  there  rose  within  her  a*  cry  of 
bitter  anguish  ;  a  cry  which  she  could  not  put  in 
words,  but  which  throbbed  in  every  fibre  of  her 
being  like  the  voice  of  Death. 

She  felt  that  her  nerves  were  being  strained  to 
their  utmost  tension,  and  that  to  stay  in  his  pres- 
ence for  another  moment  would  be  insufferable ; 
BO  with  a  face  as  white  and  fixed  as  stone  she 
turned  and  left  him. 

In  the  hall  she  found  Anine  awaiting  her  with 
a  letter  from  A  lice  Meredith,  and  not  having 
heard  from  her  friend  since  she  had  left  Maple- 
hurst,  she  eagerly  opened  and  read  the  hastily 
penned  lines  : 

"I  write  you,  my  dearest  friend,  daring  a  brief  interval 
snatched  from  the  bedside  of  our  darling  Blanche,  who 
has  not  ppoken  an  intelligent  word  since  she  was  stricken 
down  with  the  fever,  last  Friday  night.  She  is  danger- 
ously ill,  but  God  will  not  let  our  loved  one  die.  I  do 
not  believe  He  will !  This  time  of  weary  watching  and 
suspense  is  replete  with  prayer.  Do  you  think  He  would 
turn  a  heedless  ear  to  such  petitions  as  ours  ?  They  are 
full  of  tears  and  heart-throes  and  self-sacrifices ! 

Do  not  think  me  wanting  in  love  and  gratitude  that  I 
left  you  as  I  did,  when  you  were  unconscious  of  my  going. 
I  have  not  heard  a  word  from  you  since  I  left  Maplehurst, 
and  I  am  filled  with  anxiety  lest  you  are  yet  ill.  Will 
you  send  some  one  to  me  with  a  message?  It  would 
relieve  this  pain  of  uncertainty  and  make  me  stronger  to 
endure  another  night's  vigil  beside  my  sister. 

Dear  ma  is  worn  out  with  the  suspense  of  long  days 
and  nights.  Mrs.  El  wood  and  Valois  were  with  us  all  of 
yesterday  and  last  night. 

They  are  the  very  noblest  of  friends !  Valois  is  inval- 
uable as  a  nurse,  and  is  now  with  Blanche  Drying  to  hush 


A  SUBTERFUGE  195 

her  strange  ravings  with  a  softly  tuned  hymn — her  voice 
comes  to  me  faintly  as  I  write— and  as  I  listen  I  suddenly 
miss  that  other  wailing  and  delirious  cry.  For  the  first 
time  in  seven  days  and  nights  Blanche  is  quiet!  Oh, 
thank  God !  If  for  but  one  moment  her  ravings  are  sub- 
dued she  must  be  better !  In  spite  of  all  I  have  dropped 
a  tear  on  my  miserable  little  letter;  but  I  know,  dearest 
Hortense,  you  will  overlook  this  and  send  an  early  reply 
to  Your  troubled  friend, 

ALICE  MEREDITH." 

As  she  replaced  the  letter  in  its  envelope  there 
were  tears  in  Lady  Hortense's  eyes  : 

"  I  will  do  better  than  send  a  message.  I  will 
attend  you  in  your  vigils  to-night,  my  noble,  sweet 
friend,"  she  said  to  herself,  as  she  went  slowly  up 
the  stairs — ah  !  how  slowly,  pausing  ever  and 
again  to  recover  her  breath. 

As  she  bent  with  Anine  over  her  trunks,  intent 
with  preparations  for  their  early  departure,  the 
latter  heard  her  singing  tremulously  to  herself, 
while  tears  fell  in  and  wet  the  folded  finery  which 
had  come  to  be,  like  the  balls  and  operas  and 
feasts  by  which  her  existence  was  measured  off, 
"  only  dross,  only  dross  !  "  and  while  the  girl 
understood  not  the  words  of  her  song,  the  sad 
sentiment  thereof  she  felt  instinctively,  and  ere  she 
could  check  them  her  own  tears  were  falling  fast. 

"  Mon  Dieu  I "  thought  the  sympathetic  French 
girl  as  she  had  thought  many  times  of  late  to  her- 
self, "  what  has  come  over  my  dear  mistress  to 
make  her  so  changed  from  the  Lady  Hortense 
who  brought  me  from  my  home  in  the  Pyrenees 
not  a  year  ago  ?  " 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  SHADOW 

God  tempers  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb. 

— Sterne. 

ALL  day  a  fine  drizzling  mist  had  fallen,  and 
at  five  o'clock,  just  as  Lady  Hortense  and 
her  maid  reached  their  apartments  in  the  heart 
of  Boston,  it  commenced  raining  in  torrents. 

Sir  Philip  had  not  accompanied  them  to  the 
city.  He  had  stayed  behind  to  see  to  the  closing 
up  of  Maplehurst,  and  to  impress  the  one  servant, 
a  negro  man  who  was  to  remain  to  guard  the 
premises,  with  his  duties. 

Ephriam  was  to  sleep  in  the  stable  loft ;  and 
right  zealously  did  Sir  Philip  guard  against  any 
possible  access  to  the  interior  walls  of  Maple- 
hurst  and  the  egress  of  his  prisoner,  Monsieur 
Alphonse  Favraud,  from  the  tower  thereof. 

Every  window  was  closely  shut  and  barred  ; 
every  door  double-locked  and  bolted,  and  all  the 
keys  safely  deposited  in  his  own  pockets.  So, 
with  his  evil  soul  entirely  at  ease,  Sir  Philip  now 
found  himself  rolling  over  the  storm-rent  high- 
way toward  the  railroad  station.  He  reached 
their  town  quarters  at  seven  o'clock,  and  found 
(196) 


IN  THE  VALLEY  OK  THE  SHADOW  197 

the  rooms  in  profound  quiet  and  darkness. 

As  he  stood  conjecturing,  curiously  rather  than 
with  any  feeling  of  anxiety,  upon  Lady  Hortense's 
unexplained  absence  from  the  nest  which  would 
have  made  hundreds  of  hearts  sick  with  envy, 
she  was  closeted  with  Alice  Meredith,  crying 
with  her,  praying  with  her,  condoling  with  her  ; 
for  the  crisis  had  come,  and  poor  tired  Blanche 
was  lying  in  the  adjoining  room,  her  face  void  of 
all  expression  save  that  restful  one  which  the 
Archangel  bestows  in  saying,  "  Peace  be  still !" 
her  breath,  if  coming  at  all;  coming  undiscerned, 
and  her  little  transparent  hands  crossed  over  her 
breast  in  the  stillness  of  marble. 

Over  her  bent  an  anxious,  white-faced  mother, 
who  gave  to  every  breath  she  drew,  a  tear  ;  who 
gave  with  every  tear  a  whispered  word  to  Him 
upon  whose  infinite  mercy  the  fate  of  her  darling 
hung ;  whose  hearing  ear  and  seeing  eye  alone 
divined  whether  this  was  "a  little  slumber,  a 
little  folding  of  the  hands  to  sleep,"  in  Life  or 
Death.  Almost  without  a  sound,  save  that 
doleful  and  monotonous  one  which  the  clock  gave 
out,  the  leaden  hours  passed  until  it  was  night  no 
longer. 

It  was  that  hour  when  all  breathing  nature 
is  at  its  lowest  tide  ;  when  prayers  had  ceased 
and  tears  had  dried  themselves  in  very  exhaustion; 
when  sobs  and  heart-throes  had  given  place  to  a 
silence  that  scarcely  pulsed,  and  when  suspense 


198  THE  BRIDE  OF  IN  FELICE 

with  its  drooping  pinions,  one  of  hope,  one  of 
despair,  seemed  gradually  to  be  sinking  into 
lifelessness.  Mrs.  Meredith  had  not  once  changed 
her  position  at  the  bedside  of  her  darling.  The 
eyes  which  were  riveted  upon  that  still  and 
peaceful  face  had  grown  so  wild  and  hunted  in 
their  expression  that  to  have  glanced  at  her  a 
stranger  would  have  thought  her  intellect 
distorted.  Over  the  bed  leaned  another  form — 
that  of  good  old  Doctor  Congrave,  who  had 
ministered  to  the  Merediths  through  three 
generations. 

He  held  to  the  lips  of  the  sleeper  a  piece  of 
silvered  glass ;  and  his  palsied  hand  shook 
violently  as  he  bent  his  grey  head  nearer  and 
nearer  to  the  pillow  upon  which  rested  the 
tangled  golden  head  of  his  heart's  dear  "  foster- 
child" — as  he  called  the  three  lovely  grand- 
children of  Marion,  his  once  sweetheart,  who  was 
lying  beneath  her  mossy  marble  slab  at  Charles- 
town — and  the  time  seemed  age-long  in  which  he 
stooped  there,  his  withered  features  quivering 
with  latent  emotion,  his  breath  hushed  and 
anxiety  dimming  his  kindly  eyes,  ready  at  any 
moment  to  dissolve  into  tears  of  happiness  or  grief. 

Mrs.  Meredith  sat  with  locked  fingers  and  lips 
half  parted,  ready  for  the  soul-staying  or 
despairing  cry  that  must  soon  come  in  answer  to 
the  pending  verdict  of  that  aged  prophet  bending 
there. 


.  IN  THE  VALLEY  OE  THE  SHADOW  199 

Oh  !  that  silence  was  agonizing  !  At  last  the 
tension  of  her  strained  nerves  gave  way,  causing 
her  to  cry  out  faintly,  yet  without  uttering  any 
rational  word. 

At  the  sound  the  doctor  lifted  his  disengaged 
hand. 

Surely  that  gesture  was  not  born  of  despair  ! 

Another  moment  passed;  the  next  he  looked 
up,  and  now  there  was  a  light  in  his  face  which 
transfigured  it,  making  it  like  the  face  of  a  saint. 

"She  will  live!"  he  faltered.  Then  as  he 
walked  over  to  the  dawn-lit  window  to  hide  his 
emotion,  Mrs.  Meredith  slipped  down  upon  her 
knees  beside  the  bed,  burying  her  face  in  the 
coverlits,  lest  she  should  yield  to  the  impulse  to 
shriek  out  in  the  pain  of  that  ecstasy  which  was 
beating  its  pinions  wildly  against  her  heart. 
Long  she  knelt  there  in  sobbing  prayer  of 
thanksgiving ;  and  all  the  shadows  softly 
dispersed  themselves  from  the  room,  leaving  the 
"candle  of  understanding"  to  shed  its  tender 
light  ahead  of  the  spirit  which  was  slowly 
winging  its  flight  back  from  the  arms  of  Death. 

For  many  hours  the  invalid  slumbered  in  the 
even  respiration  of  perfect  and  dreamless  sleep. 
When  she  awoke  it  was  noon. 

"  Allie  !"  they  heard  her  say.    "  I  want  Allie." 

She  came,  and  the  two  sisters  clasped  hands 
and  gazed  long  and  silently  into  each  other's 
faces. 


ZOO  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

"  Forgive  me  ! "  whispered  the  sick  girl  at 
length.  "  I  said,  a  moment  ago,  that  you  were 
cold  and  skeptical.  I  said  cruel  things,  for 
which  I  am  very  sorry.  You  do  believe  in  my 
talent  as  a  writer,  don't  you  ?" 

"  Of  course  I  do,  my  darling  " 

"  I  am  very,  very  tired,"  said  Blanche,  "  but 
there  is  something  here  that  makes  me  so  hap- 
py," placing  one  hand  over  her  heart,  "  and  my 
fever  is  all  gone.  Did  you  enjoy  yourself  at  Ma- 
plehurst  ?  I  read  a  full  account  of  the  ball  in 
the  papers,  and  they  described  your  toilet.  You 
must  have  looked  beautiful  1" 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

HER   STRATAGEM 

For  her  own  breakfast  she'll  project  a  scheme, 
Nor  take  her  tea  without  a  stratagem. 

— Young. 

1ITEANWHILE  Sir  Philip  Camden  had  been 
iVl  basking  in  the  light  of  Dorian  Rossmore's 
eyes,  forgetful  of  all  save  the  mad  infatuation 
which  they  engendered,  and  the  knowledge  that 
she  still  wore  his  talisman. 

Yes,  that  hoop  of  glittering  diamonds,  with  the 
single  emerald  shining  out  like  a  venomous  eye, 
and  it  alone  had  flashed  from  the  soft  fairness  of 
his  hostess'  hand  last  night,  and  whatever  true 
sentiments  breathed  in  the  breast  of  the  beautiful 
Creole  toward  himself,  Sir  Philip  had  been  su- 
premely unconscious  of  all  save  the  fact  that  he 
viewed  her  standing  on  the  stepping  stones  of  his 
one  ambition,  and  looking  at  him  with  her  glori- 
ous eyes  full  of  a  fire  which  he  flattered  himself 
was  love  I 

He  did  not  dream  what  dangerous  poison 
lurked  beneath  the  fascination  of  those  eyes  ! 

A  famous  tenor  of  the  day  composed  one  of 
Mrs.  Rossmore's  guests,  and  as  he  was  about  to 
(201) 


202  THE  BRIDE  OF  IK  FELICE 

favor  the  eager  assemblage  with  some  choice, 
selections,  Dorian  managed,  by  one  of  her  grace- 
ful manceuvers,  to  sit  near  Sir  Philip,  who  leaned 
against  the  door  casement,  apart  from  that  portion 
of  the  room  where  most  of  the  guests  had  col- 
lected. At  a  signal  from  his  hostess,  showing 
that  she  was  aware  of  his  proximity,  he  ap- 
proached and  took  up  his  station  at  her  elbow. 

The  prelude  was  ended ;  and  now  the  rich, 
soul-stirring  notes  of  the  songster  were  filling  the 
room,  except  for  which  sound  that  silence  reigned 
which  is  so  eloquent  of  profound  and  undivided 
interest;  thus  it  was  with  difficulty  that  Sir 
Philip  contrived  presently  to  whisper  to  his  fair 
neighbor,  who  was  bending  forward  with  ecstatic 
ear,  for  the  moment  forgetful  of  all  save  that  pow- 
erful, magnetic  voice  : 

"  Dorian,  the  evening  is  more  than  half  spent, 
and  I  have  had  scarcely  a  word  alone  with  you. 
Cannot  you  manage  to  slip  away  presently  to  the 
conservatory,  where  we  can  have  an  uninterrupted, 
if  brief,  tete-a-tete  1 " 

She  evinced  no  sign  of  having  heard  him  ;  nev- 
ertheless, when  the  Signer  had  finished  his  meas- 
ure, and  all  were  crowding  round  him,  clamoring 
for  another  song,  Mrs.  Rossmore  did  "  manage," 
and  that  very  adroitly,  to  disappear  ;  and  in  the 
midst  of  the  distraction,  none  saw  her  go,  save  Sir 
Philip,  who  also,  as  the  clapping  of  hands  and  bab- 
ble of  voices  continued,  vanished  as  if  by  magic. 


EER  STRATAGEM  203 

The  cloisters,  toward  which  he  crept  stealthily, 
were  almost  in  utter  darkness.  They  had  been 
brilliant  with  colored  lights  half  an  hour  ago,  and 
rightly  Sir  Philip  guessed  that  his  enchantress 
had  invented  the  darkness  as  a  safeguard  against 
the  exposure  of  their  tryst,  which  certainly  was 
hazardous. 

Vaguely,  as  he  entered  there,  he  denned  her 
tall  form,  standing  half  merged  in  the  shadow  of 
an  oleander  tree.  With  a  quick  bound  he  was 
beside  her,  and  she  shrunk  not  from  his  arm  as 
it  engirdled  her  waist,  but  greeted  him  with  a 
warmth  of  pretty  words,  and  listened  with  seem- 
ing eagerness  to  the  words  of  mad  infatuation 
which  he  poured  into  her  ear — words  which  made 
her  secretly  think  him  more  of  a  real  Arbaces  than 
he  had  seemed  in  the  tableau  at  Maplehurst. 

"  How  is  Lady  Carnden,  to-night  ?  "  she  asked, 
when  he  had  released  her,  and  they  were  seated 
under  the  oleander  tree.  "Why  is  she  not  here?" 

"  I  do  not  know,"  returned  Sir  Philip.  "  Why 
do  you  choose  to  remind  me  at  this  supreme 
moment,  of  her  existence  ?  " 

"  She  is  one  of  the  stern  realities  of  life — a 
reality  in  which  I  am  mostly  interested.  Do  you 
know  what  people  are  saying  ?  "  asked  Dorian, 
abruptly. 

"  No,"  answered  Sir  Philip  with  laconic  indiff- 
erence. 

"It  is   rumored   that  your   modern   Glaucus 


204  THE  BRIDE  OF  1XFELICE 

rescued  her  from  a  pair  of  mad  runaway  horses 
some  weeks  before  the  ball.  It  seems  she  had 
not  been  aware  of  her  preserver's  identity  until 
fate  brought  them  again  face  to  face  on  that 
night.  One  who  watched  the  introduction  pass 
between  them  had  also  been  an  eye-witness  to  the 
runaway.  He  had  seen  young  Volney  rush  into 
the  street  and  stay  the  beasts,  then  assist  Lady 
Camden,  who  was  all  but  swooning,  from  the 
coupe  and  lead  her  into  an  apothecary's  shop. 
He,  my  authority,  says  that  Lady  Camden  was 
greatly  agitated  upon  being  introduced  to  him. 
This  makes  it  easy  to  divine  why  she  did  not 
want  to  take  the  part  of  Galatea  with  his  Pyg- 
malion, and  yet  the  easier  to  interpret  the  cause 
of  her  emotion  in  the  Pompeian  tableau." 

"  As  to  that,"  said  Sir  Philip,  4<  upon  the  night 
of  the  ball  I  perceived  her  sentiments  toward 
Volney." 

"You  did!"  exclaimed  Dorian  Rossrnore, 
quickly,  "  and  you  told  me  you  had  merely 
created  the  tableau  of  Glaucus  and  lone  for  your 
wife's  gratification !  I  knew  there  was  some 
hidden  meaning  to  your  ruse.  I  knew  you  wilfully 
designed  to  tyrannize  over  her  !  " 

Sir  Philip  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  It  was  monstrous  !  I  despise  such  duplicity!" 
averred  Dorian,  passionately. 

Sir  Philip  laughed  deprecatingly,  then  seeing 
the  angry  fire  that  flashed  from  her  dark  eyes 


HER  STRATAGEM  205 

upon  him,  he  possessed  himself  of  one  of  her 
resisting  hands  and,  caressing  it,  said  seriously  : 

"  Dorian,  I  have  told  you  that  there  has  never 
been  any  harmony  of  sentiment  between  Lady 
Hortense  and  myself.  She  is  so  prosaic,  so  cold, 
so  austere,  that  to  see  her  unfossilized  before  me 
for  an  instant  I  resolved  to  use  a  little  stratagem, 
I  confess." 

"  And  you  found  the  issue  of  your  labor  amus- 
ing ? "  asked  Dorian  with  an  undertone  of 
cynicism  creeping  into  her  badinage. 

Sir  Philip  made  some  half-laughing  rejoinder, 
after  which  they  were  both  silent  for  a  moment. 
Dorian  was  the  first  to  speak  again. 

"What,  then  of  this  late-awakened  passion  of 
Lady  Camden's.  Is  it  reciprocated  ?  " 

"  No,  it  is  reported  that  young  Volney  is  in 
love  with  Alice  Meredith,  and  will  marry  "her. 
Lady  Hortense's  pride  is  unimpeachable.  She  will 
not  go  into  society  this  winter  for  fear  of  meeting 
Volney.  This  is  a  fatal  decision  with  her,  and 
one  that  will  soon  snap  the  frail  bond  of  her  life 
asunder." 

As  Sir  Philip  spoke,  there  came  subtly  floating 

into  them  Signer  M 's  notes,  blended  with 

those  of  a  familiar  contralto  voice. 

They  were  singing  a  measure  from  some 
Italian  opera,  and  the  strains  now  throbbing  with 
passion,  now  wailing  forth  in  melancholy  suppli- 
cation, silenced  them  to  listen. 


206  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

Mrs.  Rossmore,  with  her  hand  lying  coldly  in 
that  of  her  companion's,  felt  creeping  over  her  a 
stronger  aversion  of  him  than  she  had  ever  yet 
known.  She  longed  to  flee  from  his  presence  for 
some  undefinable  reason,  and  when  the  song 
ceased  and  its  cadence  had  died  away,  she 
suggested  that  they  return  to  the  parlors. 

"Nonsense,"  said  Sir  Philip,  as  he  slipped  one 
arm  about  her  waist.  "  We  have  not  said  one 
word  about  ourselves  as  yet.  I  have  not  even 
told  you  how  happy  you  have  made  me  by  wear- 
ing my  talisman  !  " 

As  he  spoke,  he  turned  the  hoop  of  diamonds 
about  on  her  finger. 

"  Did  you  notice  that  I  had  abandoned  all  my 
rings  to  the  preference  of  yours  ?  "  asked  Dorian, 
suavely. 

"Yes,"  whispered  Sir  Philip;  then  after  lifting 
the  hand  to  his  lips  and  kissing  it  repeatedly,  he 
added  :  "  You  are  kinder  to  me  than  I  ever 
dreamed  you  would  be,  Dorian." 

"  Ah,  do  not  be  so  conceited,  mon  ami  ! "  laughed 
Dorian,  "I  wear  it  to  the  exclusion  of  all  other 
ornaments  because  they  look  commonplace  beside 
it.  It  is  the  cunningest  type  of  art  I  have  ever 
seen.  Tell  me  I  you  certainly  did  not  buy  it  in 
America  ?  " 

"  No,"  Sir  Philip  answered  shortly 

"Where  then  ?  "  persisted  Dorian. 

"  In  Italy,"  still  laconically. 


EER  STRATAGEM  207 

"  Oh,  what  makes  you  so  impervious  ? "  she 
asked  impatiently.  "  One  would  think  there  was 
some  dark  mystery  attached  to  the  ring  ! " 

Sir  Philip  coughed. 

"  Do  you  think  the  single  emerald  particularly 
symbolical  ?  "  he  asked,  pretending  not  to  have 
heard  her. 

"  Green  is  venom — the  best  authorities  have 
granted  that  nothing  of  that  color  is  without  its 
poisonous  ingredients,"  insidiously  replied  Dorian. 

"Then  let  me  exchange  the  stone  for  some 
other  ;  the  emerald  may  prove  disastrous  to  our 
love  !  "  exclaimed  Sir  Philip  with  a  sudden  into- 
nation of  anxiety  in  his  voice. 

It  was  now  Dorian's  turn  to  laugh. 

"  Nonsense  1 "  said  she.'  "  Whatever  sentiments 
exist  between  us  cannot  be  influenced  by  a  chip 
of  precious  stone,  be  it  red  or  green,  blue  or  white. 
Do  not  be  superstitious,  mon  ami.  There  is  noth- 
ing in  omens  ! "  she  ended,  deprecatingly. 

"  I  wish  to  believe  in  nothing  save  my  beautiful 
Peeress — my  Idol !  "  whispered  her  companion, 
•passionately  lifting  her  hand  to  his  lips. 

"  Do  you  forget  the  first  commandment  ? " 
Dorian  asked,  crossing  herself  as  she  spoke  like 
a  saint. 

Her  beauty  and  her  mockery  maddened  him. 
Suddenly  he  threw  himself  upon  his  knees  at  her 
feet. 

"  I  know  no  commandment,  no  God  but  thee, 


208  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

Dorian  !  "  he  cried.  "  Thou  art  my  sole  religion  ! 
Let  me  believe  only  in  you  and  your  love  ;  it  is 
all  I  ask  !  " 

He  could  see  that  she  was  now  laughing  silently 
to  herself,  and  he  closed  his  eyes  to  shut  out  the 
sight  of  her  beautiful,  mocking  image.  Thus  he 
did  not  see  the  expression  of  her  face  swiftly 
change  from  laughter  to  dire  aversion.  He  did 
not  see  the  wreathed  lips,  the  glittering  eyes,  in 
which  lurked  subtile  design  and  insidious  hatred. 

"  Come,  Monsieur,  Sir  Philip.  Let  us  go  back 
to  my  guests,"  he  heard  her  voice  saying,  at 
length,  and  rising,  they  quitted  the  close,  per- 
fume-laden atmosphere  without  exchanging  an- 
other word. 

As  Dorian  re-entered  the  brilliant  drawing 
rooms  a  few  moments  later,  Sir  Philip  hurried, 
without  a  word  of  farewell  or  apology,  from  her 
house  out  into  the  stormy  night,  every  feeling 
within  him  dead  save  the  strong  new  passion 
which  he  felt  for  Dorian  Rossmore.  As  he  walked 
fast  and  fiercely  through  the  rain  toward  his  club, 
he  heeded  not  the  wondering  glances  that  were 
directed  by  passers-by  at  the  extraordinary  pic- 
ture he  presented,  with  his  pale,  distorted  face, 
and  despoiled  attire. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE   PEISONER 

•    *    Know  ye  uot 
Who  would  be  free,  themselves  must 
Strike  the  blow. 

— Byron, 

AND  monsieur,  the  prisoner  ? 
When,  after  hours  of  unconsciousness,  the 
Frenchman  roused  himself  sufficiently  to  think, 
it  was  with  overwhelming  horror  that  he  realized 
himself  a  prisoner,  surrounded  by  a  darkness 
whose  intensity  was  that  of  a  charnel  house,  and 
with  nothing  but  the  hard  floor  for  his  bed. 

Upon  this  he  lashed  himself,  hissing  volley  after 
volley  of  curses  upon  the  head  of  him  whose 
Mephistophelean  art  had  so  foiled  and  victimized 
him. 

This  crazed  paroxysm  ceased,  and  he  relapsed 
into  a  stupor,  which  was  not  so  much  of  the  body 
as  the  mind — a  state  of  lethargy  which,  upon  the 
fall  of  some  great  and  unexpected  calamity,  is 
almost  certain  to  attack  one  addicted  to  the  use 
of  strong  drink  or  narcotics. 

When  he  returned  again  to  consciousness  it  was 
noon. 

(209) 


210  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICS 

Issuing  from  some  unknown  source,  there  came 
to  bis  hideous  vault  of  darkness  and  despair,  a 
current  of  pure  air,  which  vitalizing  draught 
seemed  to  inspire  him  with  new  hope. 

He  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  commenced  groping 
his  way  about  in  the  uncertain  space,  muttering  to 
himself  as  he  went :  "  If  there  be  a  medium 
through  which  air  can  reach  me,  I  shall  not 
despair,  for  by  the  aid  of  air  and  opium  I  can 
live  at  least  a  fortnight.  Meanwhile,  oh  Philip, 
envoy  of  Satan,  who  knows  what  means  of  escape 
from  your  villainy  may  be  offered  me  ! 
L'homme  propose.  Dieu  dispose!  Why  did 
you  not  search  me  and  rob  me  of  all  means 
of  self-defense  ?  my  opium,  my  knife  with 
cunning  annex  of  file  and  gimlet  !  — in  these  I 
may  find  a  wonderful  agency  !  Ceil !  What  is 
this  ?  "  he  whispered,  as  suddenly  his  out-reach- 
ing hand  came  in  contact  with  the  partition  wall, 
which  was  built  of  boards  smooth-hewn  from 
timber,  hard  and  firm  as  stone. 

As  he  sounded  this  wall  by  tapping  it  forcibly 
with  his  knuckles,  it  gave  back  only  short  staccato 
echoes  which  seemed  to  mock  and  defy  him. 

But  Monsieur  Favraud  was  not  thus  easily 
baffled.  He  moved  on  along  the  wall,  making  at 
every  step  that  persistent  rapping  sound  against 
the  wood,  and  in  this  manner  he  had  almost 
measured  the  length  of  the  partition,  when  all  at 


THE  PRISONER  211 

once  he  was  answered  by  an  echo,  like  the  dying 
of  a  curfew  knell. 

With  hushed  breath  the  Frenchman  barkened 
to  the  sound,  and  when  it  had  ceased,  he  said 
audibly  :  "  I  am  in  the  tower  of  Maplehurst.  The 
belfry  is  just  above  me  !  " 

That  afternoon  he  commenced  his  work  of 
cutting  and  filing  into  the  wall's  difficult  solidity, 
laboring  for  hours,  until  at  length  the  gnawing 
pain  of  hunger  triumphed  over  ambition,  and  he 
was  compelled  to  surrender  himself  to  the 
influence  of  the  drug  to  which  of  late  months  he 
had  come  to  be  almost  a  slave,  and  with  which 
he  had  well  supplied  himself  only  the  day  previ- 
ous to  his  imprisonment.  Thus,  with  alternating 
strength  and  stupor,  day  succeeded  day,  until 
almost  a  week  had  passed — a  week  which  had 
been  to  Monsieur  Alphonse,  one  eternal  night  of 
horrors. 

Repeatedly  had  he  searched  vainly  for  that 
mysterious  source  through  which,  at  intervals, 
the  air  reached  him,  without  which  he  could  not 
have  lived.  While  each  day  his  bodily  strength 
declined  from  protracted  starvation,  the  vital 
element  of  fresh  air  and  the  regularly  administ- 
ered narcotic  combined  to  support  him  in  his 
labor  ;  and  when  under  the  influence  of  opium, 
he  forgot  all  thoughts  of  food  and  drink,  and  only 
gave  himself  up  to  the  pictures  of  freedom,  which 
his  inebriate  fancy  drew,  and  to  the  dilatory  toil 


212  THE  BRIDE  OF  IXfELICft 

of  paving  his  way  out  of  the  infernal  darknes 
which  encompassed  him. 

I  forbear  to  enter  minutely  into  details  of  his 
work — how  he  whittled  away  sliver  after  sliver 
of  the  pine  wood,  some  of  which  were  as  fine  as 
spun  thread;  how  he  tore,  strained  and  blistered 
his  hands  until  at  last  the  rude  rent  in  the 
wall  penetrated  through  and  enabled  him  to  see 
into  the  adjoining  passage,  from  whose  sky-light 
the  day-beams  fell,  making  patches  of  red  and 
blue  and  amber  upon  the  floor.  -„ 

Oh  !  who  can  conceive  his  infinite  joy,  when  he 
knelt  gazing  through  that  small  aperture,  looking 
first  upon  the  vivid  patches  of  color,  then  upward 
toward  the  curb  where  hung  the  iron  mouth- 
piece of  Maplehurst  with  its  silent  tongue. 

And  if  his  joy  were  so  great,  what  then  of  his 
despair,  when  he  awakened  a  few  hours  later  to 
find  his  hands  refused  to  grasp  the  knife  for  con- 
tinued labor  ?  They  were  paralyzed  ! 

He  cried  out  like  a  madman  when  the  revel- 
ation of  his  helplessness  burst  upon  him. 

The  aperture  before  him  admitted  to  his  bed- 
lam a  faint  stream  of  light  which  revealed  its 
utter  barrenness.  Nothing  was  there  save 
cob-webs,  where 

Half-starved  spiders  preyed  on  half-starved  flies, 

and  the  old  comforter  which  served  as  his  only 
covering.  Up  to  this  he  crept,  sensitive  for  the 
first  time  during  his  imprisonment  of  the  sharp 


*    THE  PRISONER  213 

winter's  cold  ;  and  as  he  rolled  himself  shivering 
in  its  spareness,  great  sobs  shook  his  defeated 
body.  Only  a  moment  ago  and  he  was  a  very 
demon  of  defiance,  with  his  every  nerve  and  sinew 
strained  in  dire  antagonism  against  the  hand  of 
Fate.  Now  he  was  an  infant,  writhing  and  whim- 
pering in  his  utter  helplessness.  And  Destiny 
stood  at  that  miserable  little  hole  in  the  wall 
looking  in  upon  his  prey  with  his  dread  counte- 
nance distorted  in  triumphant  laughter  ! 

A  black  spider  swung  himself  down  on  his  fine 
rope  and  played  upon  one  of  the  still  and  sense- 
less hands,  and  gluttonously  sucked  out  the  blood 
from  one  of  its  open  wounds,  leaving  what  little 
virulence  its  starved  body  retained  in  the  oozing 
pores.  Gradually  the  poison  absorbed  into  the 
veins  and  pulsed  up  the  vital  part  of  the  French- 
man's arm.  The  sensation  roused  him  from  his 
stupefied  condition,  and  in  his  horrible  pain  he 
started  upright.  He  viewed  the  swollen  member 
of  his  person,  and  instinctively  knew  to  what 
was  due  the  aching  propensity. 

Should  he  die  in  the  horrible  agonies  occasioned 
from  a  spider  bite,  or  gain  eternal  oblivion  through 
the  agency  of  opium  ? 

His  every  sense  bespoke  a  preference  for  the 
easier  death,  and  thus  "  therein  the  patient  min- 
istered to  himself"  ;  but  still,  it  must  not  be  sup- 
posed that  because  he  "ministered,"  he  needs 
must  have  died.  The  falcon  eye  of  Fate  still 
watched  outside  the  prisoner's  den,  and  by  his 
decree  the  remedy  was  not  death,  but  antidote. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

A   REVELATION 

Sudden  a  thought  came  like  a  full-blown  rose, 
Flushing  her  brow. 

— Keatt. 

BACK  from  the  vale  of  darkness  and  beckoning 
shadows  the  gentle  spirit  of  Blanche  Mere- 
dith slowly  winged  its  flight ;  and  now  instead  of 
anxious,  watchworn  faces,  those  of  the  most  radi- 
ant happiness  hovered  over  the  pillows  where  the 
invalid  lay  with  answering  love  shining  from  her 


More  than  a  week  had  passed  since  that  crit- 
ical moment  in  which  had  come  the  verdict  from 
Doctor  Congrave's  lips,  "  she  will  live  "  ;  and  one 
morning  as  he  departed  from  his  daily  visit  to  the 

brownstone  house  in  W Square,  it  had  been 

with  a  promise  that  his  little  patient  should  be 
carried  to  the  drawing-room  on  the  morrow,  and 
be  permitted  to  sit  for  an  hour  in  a  large  easy 
chair  in  the  window  from  where  she  could  see  the 
people  passing  from  church. 

So  the  longed-for  morrow  came,  and  Blanche  in 
a  soft  white  woolen  gown,  and  her  bright  hair 
freshly  dressed,  was  ensconced,  according  to  prom- 
(214) 


A  REVELATION  215 

ise,  in  the  deep  window-place,  with  the  red  fire- 
light shedding  a  warm  glow  over  the  delicate 
transparency  of  her  face  and  heightening  the 
light  in  her  soft  and  happy  eyes. 

Alice  had  gone  in  company  with  her  father  to 
the  neighboring  church ;  but  beside  the  invalid 
sat  Mrs.  Meredith  and  little  Olive,  the  latter  en- 
gaged in  blending  together  a  knot  of  purple  violets 
and  shining  leaves  which  she  had  brought  from 
the  conservatory  especially  for  her  invalid  sister. 

"  Oh,  mamma,"  cried  Blanche,  rapturously  in- 
haling the  faint  and  delicious  perfume  as  Olive 
pinned  the  nosegay  upon  her  breast,  and,  kissing 
her,  stole  away,  "  I  never  knew  before  what  sweet- 
ness pervaded  the  odor  of  violets  !  I  do  not  think 
I  ever  appreciated  the  blessing  of  breath  to  enjoy 
the  gifts  of  nature  as  I  do  at  this  supreme 
moment !  " 

Her  pale  face  flushed  and  quivered  with  emo- 
tion as  she  spoke,  and  tears  welled  to  her  eyes  of 
tender  blue. 

Mrs.  Meredith's  heart  was  too  full  for  utterance. 
In  silence  she  lifted  one  of  her  darling's  little  blue- 
veined  hands  to  her  lips  and  kissed  it  fervently. 

Blanche  returned  the  caress,  then  looked  out 
upon  the  broad  wind-swept  thoroughfare,  along 
which  the  carriages  had  begun  to  clatter  with 
their  warmly-furred  passengers  who  had  been  to 
morning  service  at  their  respective  places  of 
worship. 


216  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

The  sidewalks  were  scattered  with  pedestrians, 
some  of  whom  carried  little  gilt-edged  prayer 
books,  and  it  was  the  faces  of  these  which 
Blanche  scanned  eagerly,  expecting  each  moment 
to  recognize  those  of  her  father  and  Alice. 

She  was  filled  with  a  happy  childish  longing  to 
make  some  signal  ere  they  reached  the  stone- 
flagged  steps,  by  which  they  would  be  sure  to 
look  up  and  behold  her  sitting  there  ;  and  when 
at  length  they  came  in  sight  she  cried  out  loudly 
as  she  tapped  upon  the  pane  : 

"  Papa  !   Alice  !   look  up  and  see  me  !" 

They  both  heard  her  cry,  and  signalled  to  her 
with  loving  gestures.  As  the  invalid  replied  to 
these  a  look  of  startled  surprise  crossed  her 
features  to  abruptly  check  the  smiles  that  played 
there. 

"Who  is  the  strange  young  gentleman  with 
them  ?"  the  young  girl  asked,  turning  to  her 
mother  in  a  sort  of  panic. 

Mrs.  Meredith,  who  also  was  looking  out  from 
her  place  of  concealment  behind  the  half-drawn 
curtains,  replied : 

"It  is  Mr.  Volney,  Valois  Elwood's  English 
cousin,  and  the  medium  through  whom  you  daily 
receive  your  flowers  and  books  and  bon-bons." 

"  His  face  is  familiar  to  me,"  said  Blanche, 
meditatively.  "  Yet  where  I  have  seen  him  I 
cannot  recall.  See  how  he  looks  at  Allie, 


A  REVELATION  217 

mamma  !  and  do  see  how  she  is  blushing  !" 

Hereupon  a  grey  head  came  suddenly  between 
her  face  and  the  outward  picture,  while  a  fond 
voice  said : 

"  Our  little  girl  is  getting  on  amazingly.  How 
long  has  she  been  sitting  up,  mamma  ?  Doctor 
said  only  an  hour,  you  know." 

"  It  has  scarcely  been  half  of  that  yet," 
answered  Blanche.  "And  I  feel  strong — oh? 
quite  strong  enough  to  sit  here  for  hours  to  come. 
Do  let  me,  papa !"  she  entreated,  clinging 
fondly  to  her  parent. 

But  Mr.  Meredith  shook  his  head  sternly,  and 
pursed  his  lips  as  one  might  in  denying  one's 
babe  some  unconscionable  request. 

Alice  now  came  softly  in  the  room,  not  so  softly, 
however,  but  that  Blanche  heard,  and  turned 
with  mischief-lurking  eyes  to  rebuke  her  for 
lingering  BO  long  away. 

"  Why  did  you  not  ask  Mr.  Volney  in  ?"  she 
questioned,  as  her  sister  said  she  had  only  tarried 
long  enough  to  take  leave  of  a  friend  who  had 
walked  with  them  from  the  church. 

"He  had  an  engagement  to  dine  at  two  o'clock," 
said    Alice,    "but  is    coming   to-morrow  to  be 
introduced  to  you — Blanche,  little  sister;   he  is 
very  nice,"  she  added  in  a  low,  fervid  tone. 
-   Blanche  smiled  mischievously. 

"  And  as  handsome  as  he  is  nice  and 
philanthropic!"  exclaimed  the  invalid.  "I  mean 


318  THE  BRIDE  OF  IN  FELICE 

to  like  him  exceedingly  and  I  shall  have  him 
read  to  me  from  some  of  the  beautiful  books  he 
has  sent  me." 

"  I  know  he  will  be  happy  to  serve  you.  He 
reads — divinely. ' ' 

"  Used  he  to  read  to  you  at  Ivendene  when  you 
were  there  ?"  asked  Blanche. 

"  Sometimes — to  Valois  and  me." 

After  this  the  two  girls  sat  for  some  moments 
without  speaking.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Meredith 
conversed  apart  from  them  in  low  tones,  while 
Olive  sat  near  the  grate  deeply  engrossed  in 
Bunyan's  "  Pilgrim's  Progress." 

Blanche's  eyes  were  fixed  thoughtfully  upon 
her  folded  hands  ;  and  as  her  si'ter  watched  the 
long,  down-bent  lashes  and  the  sweet  pensive 
mouth,  she  wondered  if  ever  a  piece  of  Cyprian 
marble  were  chiselled  into  more  classic  beauty 
than  the  face  before  her. 

Presently  Blanche  looked  up  : 

UI  have  been  trying,"  said  she,  "to remember 
where  I  have  seen  Mr.  Volney  before  this 
morning.  Tha  moment  I  beheld  his  face  I  was 
struck  with  its  fauiiliarity." 

"  It  may  have  figured  as  an  ideal  in  one  of  your 
dreams  of  romance,"  suggested  Alice  playfully. 

"Surely,"  conceded  the  other,  "it  is  perfect 
enough  for  an  ideal.  During  the  week,"  she  went 
on,  "  I  have  heard  Valois  speak  often  of  her  En- 
glish cousin,  and  when,  at  different  times  you 


A  REVELATION  219 

told  me  the  flowers  and  books  came  from  Mr. 
Volney,  I  tried  to  picture  him  in  my  mind  :  I 
fancied  a  low,  thick-set,  well-dressed  little  fellow, 
with  kindly  blue  eyes  and  rosy  cheeks,  and  with 
hair  and  mustache  of  a  tawny  shade,  inclined  to 
curl.  I  imagined  such  a  type  of  British  aristo- 
cracy standing  in  the  florist's,  and  saying  to  the 
connoisseur,  intent  on  wiring  buds,  '  Be  suah  to 
have  them — ah — as  fresh  and  sweet  as  possible, 
and — ah — put  a  sprig  of  maiden-hair  at  intervals 
about,  doncher  know.'  But  suddenly  Mr.  Boun- 
tiful puts  my  conception  to  ridicule  by  appearing 
before  me  a  veritable  classic  god  ! " 

All  that  afternoon  Blanche  was  haunted  by  the 
pair  of  dark  luminous  eyes  which  she  had  seen 
gazing  into  her  sister's  face,  with  an  expression 
which  her  intuitive  soul  told  her  was  engend- 
ered of  something  more  than  friendship. 

That  night,  as  Alice  entered  her  sister's  room 
just  previous  to  retiring,  she  found  Blanche  lying 
quietly,  with  eyes  closed  as  if  in  gentle  slumber. 
She  was  about  to  retire  without  bestowing  the 
good  night  kiss,  lest  it  should  awaken  her  ;  but 
as  she  reached  the  door  a  voice  said  softly:  "Allie 
dear,  I  am  quite  awake.  I  was  only  thinking 
with  my  eyes  shut.  Come  here ;  I  want  to  ask 
you  something." 

She  held  out  both  arms,  and  when  her  sister 
bent  over  her,  she  clasped  them  tenderly  about 
her  neck,  and  whispered  so  low  that  her  listener 


220  THE  BRIDE  OF  7 A FELICE 

could  scarce  make  out  the  words  :  "  Mr.  Volney 
loves  you  !  I  am  sure  he  loves  you  from  the  way 
in  which  he  looked  at  you  this  morning." 

Alice  was  silent.  She  did  not  look  up  lest  the 
hot  flush  she  felt  suffusing  her  face  should  betray 
her. 

"It  must  be  beautiful,"  went  on  the  young  girl, 
fondling,  as  she  spoke,  the  bright  shining  hair 
that  fell  over  her  sister's  shoulders  like  a  mantle, 
"  to  lie  awake  in  the  dark  and  have  such  a  pair 
of  eyes  as  his  come  before  you,  shining  with  such 
love  as  I  saw  in  them  this  morning." 

Her  words  were  far-reaching,  and  Alice  felt 
herself  no  longer  able  to  evade  them. 

"  It  is  beautiful — oh  infinitely,  religiously 
beautiful,  little  sister  !"  Blanche  heard  her  whie- 
per  ;  then  looking  up,  that  she  might  speak  moro 
coherently,  Alice  told  her  story.  She  told  how 
Fate  had  so  mysteriously  forecast  her  love  to  her 
on  the  night  of  Thayer  Volney's  advent  to  Iven- 
dene  ;  how,  with  the  presentiment  encompassing 
her  like  a  dream,  she  had  flown  to  the  piano  and 
sang  "  My  love  is  come,"  but  how  afterward,  when 
she  had  first  looked  into  his  eyes,  she  had  felt  an 
icy  hand  suddenly  fall  upon  her  heart,  while  a 
voice  whispered  to  her,  "  You  are  a  "bankrupt's 
daughter  ;  he  is  a  son  to  a  baronet ;  he  is  a  noble- 
man ;  and  even  though  King  Cophetua  did  love 
a  beggar  maid  you  must  not  let  this  thought  stim- 
ulate your  passion,  but  crush  it  while  yet  it  has 


A  REVELATION  221 

scarcely  budded."  How  she  had  striven  to  obey 
the  warning  voice,  but  had  been  overruled  by  an 
acknowledgment  of  love  from  Thayer's  lips  that 
night  at  Maplehurst.  Then  she  spoke  of  the 
blank  which  had  followed  when  she  had  knelt  at 
Blanche's  bedside  and  offered  up  all  her  hopes  of 
future  happiness  if  only  God  would  spare  her  sis- 
ter's life  for  the  sacrifice,  "  and  now  that  my 
prayer  has  been  answered,"  she  concluded,  "I 
am  reconciled  to  the  thought  of  devoting  the  rest 
of  my  life  to  your  happiness,  and  remembering 
my  love  only  as  a  brief  and  beautiful  dream." 

Blanche  had  listened  breathlessly,  and  when 
her  sister  ceased  speaking,  she  cried,  with  eyes 
full  of  sympathetic  tears  : 

"  No,  no  !  it  is  not  for  suoh  a  sacrifice  on  your 
part  that  God  has  spared  my  life.  He  is  kind  ; 
He  knows  your  noble,  unselfish  heart,  and  would 
not  ask  of  it  such  a  cruel  denial.  I  feel  sure  He 
will  bless  you  both  in  your  love  !  " 

Alice's  bosom  heaved  in  a  tumult  of  ecstacy  at 
these  words. 

She  looked  at  her  sister  through  swimming 
eyes,  but  could  not  speak  for  the  deep  emotion 
she  felt. 

A  few  moments  later  she  stole  out,  leaving 
Blanche  fast  asleep. 

The  next  day  Mr.  Volney  was  led  into  the 
drawing-room,  where  Blanche  was  again  arranged 
in  her  easy  chair  in  the  window-place. 


222  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

He  chatted  brightly  and  with  all  the  engaging 
grace  of  lepartee  which  characterized  him,  but 
Blanche  sat  scarcely  heeding  his  remarks,  and, 
in  her  distraitness,  appearing  almost  dull.  Her 
mind  was  wandering  through  the  confused  vista 
of  the  past,  striving  to  single  out  the  day  on 
which  she  had  first  seen  Valcis  Elwood's  cousin. 
But  the  more  she  thought  upon  the  subject,  the 
more  at  sea  she  found  herself,  and  in  sheer  vexa- 
tion of  her  defeat,  when  she  was  tucked  away  on 
her  couch  again,  she  turned  her  face  to  the  wall 
and  wept. 

Next  morning,  however,  when  Alice  went  as 
usual  to  her  room,  she  found  the  invalid  sitting 
up  with  a  face  as  radiant  as  a  summer's  dawn 
glow. 

"  Allie,"  cried  she,  "  I  have  solved  the  problem! 
I  know,  now,  where  I  first  saw  your  King  Cophe- 
tua  ! " 

Alice  went  and  sat  down  by  her  with  her  eyes 
full  of  questions,  but  mute  her  lips. 

"  I  dreamed  out  the  enigma,"  laughed  Blanche, 
"  but  before  I  explain,  let  me  ask  you  a  question. 
On  what  day  did  you  return  from  Ivendene,  last 
fall?" 

After  a  moment's  reflection,  Alice  replied  :  "On 
Friday,  the  first  of  November." 

"Well,  on  Friday,  the  first  of  November,'' 
commenced  Blanche,  "early  in  the  forenoon,  I 
was  standing  at  the  library  window  Looking  O11t 


A  REVELATION  223 

upon  the  street,  when  suddenly  as  I  glanced 
over  to  the  opposite  pavement,  my  eyes  gazed 
straight  into  those  of  Thayer  Volney's.  He 
stood  just  opposite  the  house,  contemplating  it 
intently,  but  when  he  looked  up  and  saw  me,  he 
seemed  to  be  disconcerted  and  beat  a  hasty 
retreat  down  the  avenue." 

Alice  looked  at  her  sister  with  the  lines  about 
her  mouth  working  nervously.  She  saw  before 
her,  as  she  had  once  seen  the  vision  in  a  dream, 
a  scroll  upon  which  was  written,  in  golden  letters, 
the  one  word  "  Mizpah."  It  was  held  aloft  by  a 
visible  hand  ;  while  behind,  through  a  cloud- 
vista,  she  saw  a  pair  of  wondrous  eyes  shining 
out  like  stars — the  eyes  of  Thayer  Volney. 

u  What  are  you  thinking  about  ? "  asked 
Blanche.  "  Do  you  divine  why  he  was  looking  at 
our  home  with  such  interest  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Alice,  startled  and  shocked 
at  the  sudden  relevation.  "  He  was  the 
purchaser  of  it.  Robin  St.  Cloud  is  none  other 
than  Thayer  Volney  himself." 

"  I  know — I  thought  if  I  were  to  tell  you  what 
I  suspected,  you  would  not  believe  me  ;  but  my 
dream  made  it  all  as  plain  to  me  as  the  truth  of 
day,"  Blanche  said  eagerly. 

Long  thereafter,  Alice  sat  staring  vacantly 
before  her,  wondering  how  she  could  ever  bring 
herself  to  look  into  Thayer  Volney's  eyes  again. 
How  could  she  ever  render  the  debt  of  gratitude 


224  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

due  such  elaborate  generosity  as  his  had  been  ? 
He  had  come  into  her  life  just  when  it  had  been 
subject  to  a  dread  calamity,  and  had  saved  her 
from  it.  Out  of  the  depths  of  his  divine  sym- 
pathy had  sprung  the  inspiration  which  had 
rescued  her  home  from  the  grasp  of  the  enemy, 
and  her  family  from  the  bitterness  of  relinquish- 
ing that  loved  roof-tree.  Ah,  what  a  friendship 
had  his  proven,  indeed  !  In  this  life  of  artifice, 
doubt  and  misery,  where  all  is  so  cold  and 
unsympathetic,  such  a  friendship  stands  above  all 
riches  and  arts  ;  it  is  a  joy  exalted  above  all 
powers  of  praise  ;  it  is  the  sweetest  of  consolations 
next  to  heaven  I 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

ENGAGED 

'Twere  all  one 

That  I  should  IOTC  a  bright  particular  star 
And  thiult  to  wed  it. 

—  Shakespeart. 

To  heirs  unknown  descends  the  tmprnarded  store, 
Or  wanders,  heaven  directed,  to  the  poor. 

— Pop*. 

TT  was  the  twenty-third  of  December,  and  again, 
1  after  continuous  days  of  hovering,  vaporous 
gloom,  the  earth  lay  glittering  resplendent  in  a 
shroud  of  spotless  white. 

Valois  Elwood  had  been  shopping  all  the  after- 
noon, and  when  she  returned  home  the  hall  lights 
were  burning  in  the  Florentine  sconces. 

She  looked  exceedingly  pretty  in  her  sealskins, 
with  the  crisp,  dark  curls  fringing  her  forehead 
under  the  jaunty  turban,  and  her  eyes  and  cheeks 
glowing  with  animation,  which  the  sharp,  blood- 
stirring  air  had  lent_ 

As  she  paused  at  the  stand  to  examine  gome 
cards  and  letters ,  her  mother  came  out  from  the 
reception  room  and,  kissing  her  with  lingering 
fondness,  commenced  to  remove  her  boa  and 
mantle.  This  accomplished,  she  bestowed  an- 
other fervent  caress,  then  whispered  : 
(225) 


226  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

"My  dear,  your  father  bade  me  send  you  to 
him  immediately  upon  your  return.  He  is  await- 
ing you  in  the  library." 

"  le  he  alone  ?  "  asked  Valois  with  eyes  sud- 
denly down-cast,  and  heart  beating  a  wild  tattoo. 

"  Yes,  he  is  quite  alone,"  said  Mrs.  Elwood  ; 
whereupon  there  was  a  little  impetuous  cry  of 
"  Oh,  mamma  ! "  then  for  an  instant  a  pair  of 
soft,  warm  arms  clung  tenaciously  about  Mrs. 
El  wood's  neck,  and  vanished  Valois  swiftly  down 
the  margin  of  dark  red  tapestries  toward  the 
apartment  where  her  fate  awaited  her. 

Valois  had  never  but  once,  to  her  recollection, 
seen  her  father  in  tears  ;  that  was  upon  the  death 
of  an  old  army  comrade,  but  now,  as  she  entered 
the  library,  he  looked  up,  and  she  divined  that 
he  had  been  weeping. 

"  Come  here,  little  girl,"  he  said  gravely,  and 
with  an  expression  about  the  lips  that  bespoke  an 
inner  tumult. 

After  an  instant's  hesitation,Valois  approached 
and  stood  before  him  flushed  and  embarrassed. 

He  did  not  take  the  petite  creature  upon  his 
knee  as  had  been  his  wont  to  do  since  her  baby- 
hood, but  placing  one  arm  about  her  waist  he  drew 
her  close  to  him,  and  after  a  moment  asked  her 
that  one  of  all  questions  in  the  catechism  which  is 
hardest  to  answer. 

"  Valois,  my  daughter,  what  is  Love  ?  " 

The  young  girl  stood  for  a  moment  striving  to 


ENGAGED  227 

summon  up  words  in  which  to  couch  an  intelli- 
gent reply. 

The  effort  was  the  most  trying  one  of  her  life's 
experience.  Mr.  Elwood  felt  her  tremble  and  saw 
her  sweet  lips  grow  pale  as  he  waited  for  her 
answer  which  came  at  length.  With  enforced 
composure,  she  said  : 

u  Love,  papa,\  is  an  inspiration  of  the  heart 
which  when  once  awakened  causes  one  to  realize 
all -that  is  most  beautiful  in  existence  and  fills 
the  soul  with  contentment  and  'happiness  unut- 
terable." 

"  Are  you  certain,  my  dear,  that  you  have  not 
memorized  that  pretty  little  definition  from  some 
novel  ?  Is  it  the  analysis  of  your  own  heart  ?  " 

"It  is,  papa,"  answered  Valois  fervently. 

"Then,"  said  her  father  as  he  laid  his  hand 
reverently  upon  her  head,  "let  us  concede  that 
the  world  holds  no  holier,  no  sweeter  sentiment, 
than  reciprocal  love — a  spontaneous  and  equally 
measured  degree  of  passion  existing  between  two 
human  souls,  what  is  required  to  make  that  pas- 
sion enduring  ?  " 

•"To  render  love  perfect  through  life  one  must 
be  true  and  devoted  and  tender  and  thoughtful ; 
every  thing  constant  and  abiding  toward  the 
object  loved,"  answered  his  daughter. 

"  Yes,  yes  !  and,  hem — you  think  that  in  your 
love  for  Lieutenant  Carruthers  and  his  love  for 
you,  all  such  qualities  will  exist  ?  " 


228  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

"Yes,  papa,  I — we  have  become  all  the  we  rid 
to  each  other — Gershon  and  I." 

There  ensued  a  brief  pause,  after  which  Colonel 
El  wood  went  on  in  the  same  serious  tone. 

"  He  has  been  here  this  afternoon — your 
Gerehon  ;  and  he  has  asked  me  for  your  hand  in 
marriage,"  he  paused  again  and  Valois  waited 
with  suspended  breath  for  him  to  pursue.  Oh, 
the  dread  uncertainty  of  his  next  words  ! 

"  My  daughter,  it  is  hardly  the  future  we  had 
mapped  out  for  you.  Aside  from  Lieutenant 
Carruthers'  pay  he  has  but  three  thousand 
dollars  a  year." 

"  1  know  papa,  but  is — is  not  that  a  consider - 
able  sum  ?"  asked  the  young  girl. 

Colonel  Elwood  smiled  and  shook  his  head 
seriously. 

"  It  would  perhaps  keep  you  in  pin  money,  my 
dear,"  he  said,  "  but  would  scarcely  support  an 
establishment  such  as  would  befit  an  Elwood." 

Valois  was  certain  that  she  detected  a 
depreciation  in  his  words  which  threatened 
annihilation  to  all  her  fondest  dreams ;  and 
involuntarily  her  arms  tightened  about  his  neck 
in  mute  appeal, 

"  But,"  went  on  her  father  presently,  "  your 
ma  and  I  have  been  talking  the  matter  over,  and, 
seeing  that  the  Lieutenant  has  a  pedigree — that 
he  is  of  good  blood,  a  true  gentleman  and  a 
soldier,  we  have  concluded  —  hem  !—  jtve  have  — 


ENGAGED  2-9 

that  is  we  have  conceded  to  him  as  a  future  son- 
in-law.  At  the  event  of  your  union,  I  will  settle 
upon  you  the  estate  of  Ivendene,  a  good  town- 
house  and  a  decent  allowance.  There  !  yes,  of 
course,  kiss  me  —  now — now  run  away  to  your 
lover  ;  I  think  he  is  with  your  ma  in  the  reception 
room." 

The  sun  never  shone  upon  a  fairer  day  than 
that  which  ushered  in  Christmas-eve  in  the  great 
New  England  metropolis.  Counter-hurrying 
throngs,  eagerly  intent  on  holiday  purchases, 
massed  the  narrow  thoroughfares.  Carriages 
flanked  the  curbs,  and  ill-clad,  bare- footed  urchins 
pressed  their  little  frozen  noses  against  the 
confectioner's  windows  where  were  temptingly 
displayed  bon-bons  and  cornucopias  and  old 
women  in  shoes,  whose  legion  of  children  wore 
blue  and  red  and  yellow  petticoats,  all  glimmer- 
ing with  frost. 

It  was  from  one  of  these  bon-bon  shops  that 
Valois  Elwood  had  just  stepped,  and  was  about 
to  enter  her  carriage  when  she  was  arrested  by  a 
voice  of  childish  distress.  Looking  around  she 
saw  a  boy  of  about  eight  years  crouching  almost 
under  the  very  feet  of  her  horses. 

He  was  sobbing  piteously,  and  grovelling  in 
the  dirty  snow  and  sluah  which  had  been  swept 
from  the  pavement. 

"Get  up  from  there,  you  blubbering  vagabond  ! 


230  THE  BRIDE  OF  IXFELICE 

Get  up  if  you  don't  want  to  be  run  over,"  said  the 
coachman  gruffly. 

"  Don't  speak  to  him  like  that,  Forrest;"  his 
young  mistress  rebuked  him  gently,  "he  is 
distressed  over  something  that  he  has  lost, 
evidently.  What  is  it  you  have  lost,  poor  little 
boy?"  she  asked,  as  she  bent  low  over  the 
weeping  child.  He  kept  on  plunging  his  blue 
and  bleeding  hands  in  the  slush  as,  without 
looking  up,  he  sobbed  incoherently  : 

"  My  dime,  my  dime !  it  wa — was  all  I 
ha — had,  and  it  ro — rolled  away !  I  was 
go— owing  to  get  a  sug — a  sugar  doll  for 
Mae  —  Mae —  Maemie  ;  but  it  ro — o — o — oiled 
away,  and  I  ca — can't  find  it,  mum  !" 

As  he  finished  speaking  there  shone  from  the 
face  attove  him,  deepest  sympathy.  Drawing  a 
little  hand  from  its  warm  nesting-place  inside 
her  muff,  Valois  opened  her  purse,  and  the  lad, 
hearing  the  jingle  of  coin,  looked  up  quickly. 
As  he  did  so,  she  was  almost  startled  by  the 
unusual  beauty  of  his  face.  His  tearful  eyes 
were  of  a  deep  dark  blue ;  and  gazed  out  from 
their  up-curled  lashes  with  wonderful  truth  and 
intellectuality.  His  features,  from  the  low  brow 
to  the  dimpling  chin,  were  as  delicately  chiselled 
as  a  girl's  ;  and  were  framed  in  by  thick  black, 
curling  locks  which  ended  in  a  soft  mass  of 
ringlets  on  the  little  sun-browned  neck,  destitute 


ENGAGED  231 

of  muffler  or  any  protection  against  the  sharp 
December  cold. 

Indeed,  such  a  striking  resemblance  did  he 
bear  to  Valois  herself  that,  had  he  been  dressed 
in  accordance  with  the  young  girl's  rich  attire 
he  might  easily  have  been  taken  for  her  brother. 
Perhaps  this  was  why  Valois  felt  herself  so 
instinctively  drawn  toward  him. 

After  admiringly  contemplating  his  upturned 
face  for  a  moment,  she  held  toward  him  a  hand- 
ful of  nickels  and  coppers,  and  was  unable  to 
repress  a  smile  as  she  watched  his  features 
kindling  with  incredulous  joy. 

"Take  these,"  said  she. 

The  boy  sprang  quickly  to  his  feet ;  but  as 
she  was  about  to  drop  the  moneys  into  his  out- 
reaching  hand,  he  suddenly  drew  back,  and 
gazing  steadfastly  at  her  with  his  honest  eyes,  he 
said  :  "  I'd  rather  not  take  the  money,  mum  j  it 
looks  likes  as  I's  a  beggar.  I  ain't  no  beggar, 
mum  ;  I  sells  papers,  I  does." 

"  Do  you  make  much  by  selling  papers  ? " 
asked  the  young  girl, interested  more  and  inore,and 
paying  little  heed  to  Forrest's  impatience  to  be  off. 

"  I  makes  enough  to  keep  mammy  in  tea  and 
coal,"  said  the  lad,  proudly. 

"  Who  is  your  mother  ?" 

"  Mrs.  Kidder,  a  shoe-binder." 

"  And  your  father  ?  " 

"  Dead,  mum."  - 


232  TEE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

"Who  is  little  Maemie,  for  whom  you  were 
going  to  buy  a  sugar  doll  ?  " 

"  She  is  my  little  sister  ;  she  is  crippled  and 
ailing ;  but,  oh  mum,  she  is  so  pretty  !  her  face 
is  like  the  angel  in  her  picture  book." 

"How  old  is  little  Maemie?"  questioned 
Valois  with  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"She'll  be  Eeven,  come  New  Year  Day.  I'm 
goin'  on  nine." 

"  Where  do  you  live  ?  " 

"  At  D Place  ;  number  14,"  he  answered. 

Valois  carefully  took  down  the  address  in  her 
memorandum  book,  then  she  said  :  "  I  am  com- 
ing to  see  your  mamma  some  day,  now  take  this 
money — there  is  nearly  a  dollar  in  all — and  go 
and  get  little  Maemie  her  sugar  doll  and  yourself 
some  sweetmeats.  Good-bye  !  " 

She  turned  suddenly  back,  "  but  stay  !  you 
have  not  told  me  your  first  name  ?  "  said  she. 

"  Roy's  my  name,  mum.  Roy  Kidder," 
answered  the  lad. 

"  Well,  good-bye,  Roy  Kidder  !  May  you  and 
Maemie  spend  a  happy  Christmas  !  " 

With  these  words  she  stepped  into  her  carriage 
and  the  next  moment  was  rapidly  rolled  away 
from  the  wondering  lad,  who  stood  watching  her 
vehicle  until  it  was  lost  among  the  hundreds  on 
the  thoroughfare. 

From  the  busy  heart  of  the  city,  Valois  was 
driven  to  W square.  She  was  ko$)t  waiting 


ENGAGED  233 

a  long  time  in  the  drawing-room  before  Alice 
came  down  stairs  ;  and,  being  one  of  the  most 
impatient  of  creatures,  she  flitted  about,  peeping 
into  this  book  and  that,  reviewing  the  pictures 
in  the  photogravure,  picking  up  and  reading  a 
stray  card,  which  announced  that  "Robert 
Meredith,  assayer  of  gold  and  silver  quartz  and 
all  minerals,  was  established  at  Number  —  State 
street,"  and  lastly,  drawing  off  her  long  gloves, 
she  seated  herself  at  the  piano  and  executed  in  a 
very  creditable  manner,  Newstedt's  pretty 
gavotte,  "de  Marie  Antoinette." 

She  finished 'this,  and  was  in  the  midst  of  one 
of  Chopin's  tender  nocturnes,  when  Alice  stole 
in,  and,  crossing  the  room  on  tip-toe,  stood  behind 
her  in  smiling  contemplation  of  the  chubby  hands 
which  strayed  so  deftly  over  the  keys. 

Presently  she  stooped  over  her  and  whispered  : 
"Oh  Valois,  Valois  !  what  a  tell-tale  little  hand!1' 

Valois  bounded  to  her  feet,  and  the  blush  that 
dyed  her  face  from  throat  to  brow  would  have 
put  a  Jacqueminot  rose  to  shame. 

"  It  is  so,  Allie;  "  she  lisped  softly.  "  My  hand 
has  told  you  the  story  that  I  came  to  tell  you 
with  my  lips.  We  are  engaged.  Gershon  placed 
this  here  last  night." 

Alice  took  the  soft  and  dimp^d  hand  in  hers 
and  pretended  to  examine  the  glittering  ring  ;  but 
tears  were  fa?t  gathering  in  her  eyes  and  she 
could  not  see  it  very  plainly. 


234  THE  BRIDE  OF  1SFELICE 

"It  is  very  lovely,"  she  said  at  length,  " and  I 
am  happy  to  be  among  the  first  to  congratulate 
you.  Oh,  my  dear  friend,  all  words  seem  com- 
monplace in  such  a  contingency  !  and  you  know 
how  very  unclever  I  am  at  pretty  sayings  ;  but  I 
have  always  admired  Gershon  Carruthers  above 
most  men,  and,  having  watched  your  little  love 
affair  since  it  first  began  to  grow,  I  know  it  can 
be  fruitful  of  nothing  but  the  most  perfect  happi- 
ness." 

She  ended  by  kissing  her  favorite  upon  both 
cheeks  ;  then  leading  her  to  a  sofa,  they  sat  down 
together  and  Valois  told  the  story  of  her  engage, 
meut  from  the  beginning. 

"I  was  so  happy  all  night,"  concluded  she, 
"  that  I  could  not  sleep.  I  could  only  lie,  with 
open  eyes,  staring  into  the  dark  trying  to  think 
of  some  way  in  which  I  might  prove  my,  gratitude 
for  such  a  love  as  Gershon's.  This  morning  I 
found  out  some  poor  people  and  mean  to  send 
them  a  share  of  the  good  things  for  Christmas."  ' 

Valois  kept  her  word.  That  night  a  box  con- 
taining groceries  and  clothing  for  Mrs.  Kidder, 
Roy  and  little  crippled  Maemie  found  its  way  to 

D Place.  Even  a  few  toys  for  the  children 

were  not  forgotten  ;  and  on  the  following  day  Roy 
Kidder  blew  his  bugle  and  beat  his  drum,  while 
little  Maemie  dressed  her  doll  and  set  her  tea- 
table,  happy  as  any  children  of  the  "Hub's" 
prosperity. 


ENGAGED  235 

The  two  young  girls  were  so  engrossed  as  they 
sat  there  that  neither  of  them  heard  the  door-bell 
ring,  and  when  suddenly  they  were  interrupted 
by  the  announcement  of  "  Mr.  Volney,"  Valois 
started  up  with  alacrity,  and  before  Alice  could 
say  a  word  to  stay  her  she  vanished,  just  as  her 
English  cousin  crossed  the  threshold  of  the  draw- 
ing-room. 

For  a  moment  he  s^ood  gazing  at  Alice  who 
was  standing  in  the  center  of  the  room  swathed 
in  a  flood  of  sunlight  which  streamed  in  through 
the  window.  She  strove  vainly  to  bring  her  eyes 
to  meet  those  dark,  serious  ones,  but  it  was  not 
until  he  approached,  and  of  his  own  accord  took 
both  of  her  hands  in  his  passionate  clasp,  that  she 
looked  up  and  spDke. 

"  Thayer,"  she  said  simply,  but  the  one  word 
caused  his  face  to  light  up  as  with  a  halo. 

Almost  every  day  since  Blanche's  convalescence 
he  had  called,  but  this  was  the  first  time  the  two 
had  been  alone  together  since  they  were  at  Maple- 
hurst ;  and  each  heart  meanwhile  had  become 
full  volumes.  For  one  all  too  brief  hour  they  sat 
in  the  sunlit  parlor  talking  in  the  low,  confiding 
tones  that  lovers  use;  and  it  was  not  until  he 
held  her  hand  at  leave-taking  that  Thayer  re- 
membered to  inquire  after  Blanche. 

"  She  is  about  the  same,"  Alice  told  him,  with 
a  cloud  suddenly  blurring  the  beatitude  of  her 
face.  "It  is  strange,"  she  continued,  "that  she 


236  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

does  not  gather  strength  more  rapidly.  The  least 
exertion  seems  to  exhaust  her." 

"  She  requires  a  change  of  scene  and  air,"  said 
her  lover.  "  We  will  take  her  to  England  with 
us  in  the  spring.  The  ocean  voyage  will  benefit 
her  more  than  all  medicine,  while  European  travel 
and  inspection  of  the  Old  World's  palaces  of  art 
and  history  will  give  her  wonderful  inspiration 
for  future  literary  work." 

Alice  answered  him  not  a  word,  but  her  heart 
cried  out  in  ecstasy  : 

"  My  King  Cophetua  !  My  Robin  St.  Cloud  ! 
My  Happiness  ! " 

Then  she  clasped  the  hands  that  he  had  kissed 
so  fervently  before  her,  and  watched  him  depart, 
through  a  mist  of  blinding  tears. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

"  THE    BRIDE   OF    INFELICE  " 

*      *      I  am  weary  of  my  part, 

My  torch  is  out ;  and  the  world  stands  before  me 

Like  a  blank  desert  at  the  approach  of  uight. 

WOK0S    THAT    BURN. 

Dryden. 

The  incessant  noise  on  the  street  below  her 
window  had  grown  unbearable  to  Lady  Hortense 
Camden.  In  vain  had  Anine  laved  her  aching 
brow  with  cologne,  and  pressed  upon  her  a  cup  of 
tea,  freshly  drawn,  which  she  simply  tasted,  and 
placed  back  upon  the  tray  with  an  upward  glance 
into  the  face  of  her  anxious  maid,  which  seemed 
to  say,  "  I  would  drink  for  your  sake,  dear  An- 
inc,  if  I  only  could." 

Of  late,  the  French  girl  had  come  to  dread  the 
look  in  her  mistress'  eyes.  She  had  wept  over 
that  look  in  secret  many  times  as  she  had  turned 
from  it. 

"  What  has  come  over  her  young  life  to  make 
her  so  silent  and  pale  and  sad  ?  Is  it  Monsieur's 
coldness  ?  Is  he  cruel  to  her  ?"  she  had .  often 
asked  herself. 

For  the  past  week  Sir  Philip  had  been  in  New 
York. 

(237) 


238  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

One  day  after  his  departure  Lady  Hortense 
had  been  glancing  over  the  Society  Notes  in  one 
of  the  leading  journals,  and  not  far  below  the 
paragraph  that  related  to  Sir  Philip's  sojourn  in 
the  Eastern  metropolis,  there  was  one  conveying 
the  intelligence  that  Mrs.  Dorian  Rossmore,  "  the 
charming  widow,"  was  temporarily  absent  from 
town.  "  She  has  run  up  to  her  beautiful  country 
estate  in  New  Hampshire,"  said  the  report.  But 
Lady  Hortense's  lips  curled  themselves  in  infin- 
ite scorn  and  loathing  as  she  read  it,  and  her 
divining  heart  knew  the  truth. 

Day  by  day  the  burden  of  life  was  growing 
heavier,  and  more  surely  was  crushing  her  be- 
neath its  weight ;  and  as  she  sat  by  the  window 
early  on  Christmas  afternoon,  with  Anins  minis- 
tering to  her,  as  I  have  said,  she  was  very  weary 
and  heart-oppressed,  and  during  one  moment  of 
her  nervous  melancholy  she  would  cry  out  irrita- 
bly at  the  noiee  of  cabs  and  street  cars,  the  cries 
and  shrieks  of  small  boys  and  the  hideous  din  of 
their  fifes  and  trumpets  and  drums  ;  but  the  next 
she  would  atone  her  selfishness,  remembering  that 
it  was  Christmas,  and  the  time  for  reveling.  Was 
not  she  once  always  happy  at  Christmas  tide  ? 
Ah,  ineffably  so  !  and  that  "once,"  though  it 
seemed  an  age,  was  only  one  year  agone. 

Only  one  year  ! 

Could  it  be  but  a  single  year  since  she  had 
looked  into  her  mother's  face  and  thanked  her, 


"  THE  BRIDE  OF  IXFELICE  "  239 

with  a  flush  of  girlish  pride  upon  her  brow,  for 
the  set  of  exquisite  diamonds  which  she  gave  her 
as  a  bridal  present — gems  which  had  descended 
from  the  Chatbournes  and  had  once  adorned  the 
beauty  of  her  great-grandmother  ? 

True,  that  was  just  twelve  months  ago  ;  and  in 
the  interval  it  seemed  to  her  that  she  had  lived 
longer  than  the  whole  eighteen  years  which  lay 
beyond  the  vista  that  separated  her  from  her 
happy,  untrammeled  maidenhood. 

"  Oh  mamma  !  mamma  !  "  her  hot  and  restive 
heart  cried  out,  "  Why  could  you  not  have  fore- 
seen my  misery  ?  What  was  your  mother-love 
that  you  nad  no  instinctive  prescience  of  what 
was  to  follow  in  the  train  of  my  enforced  wedlock  ? 
What  is  your  mother-heart  ?  Is  it  impervious 
marble,  that  you  do  not  come  and  condole  with 
me  now  ?  That  you  do  not  see  how  your  am- 
bition has  cursed  me  and  I  am  dying  ?" 

There  came  no  answer  to  her  bitter  and  right- 
eously accusing  cry. 

Even  at  that  very  moment,  as  Lady  Hortense 
sat  alone  in  her  rooms  looking  out,  broken- 
hearted, on  the  day's  cold,  bleak  atmosphere,  with 
her  pent-up  anguish  stifling,  strangling,  kill- 
ing her,  Mrs.  Ayers  was  at  a  fashionable  modiste's, 
trying  on  the  lace  and  ribbon-befangled  robe, 
which  she  was  to  wear  at  a  great  society  ball  that 
night. 


240  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

She  was  vaguely  cognizant  that  it  was  her  duty 
to  run  up  to  her  daughter's  apartments,  after  the 
draperies  were  properly  adjusted,  to  leave  her 
Christmas  greetings  and  inquire  of  her  health 
but  not  once  was  she  hurt  by  a  passing  pang  of 
self-contrition  for  having  been  the  medium  of  all 
the  hopeless  misery  of  the  only  offspring  of  her 
own  flesh  and  blood.  No  compunctious  visitings 
were  her's.  She  only  felt  bitter  disappointment, 
vexation,  chagrin,  at  what  she  was  wont  to  term 
Hortense's  stony  obduracy,  her  invincible  self- 
will,  and  determination  not  to  be  happy  as  Sir 
Philip  Camden's  wife.  "She  is  ungrateful  and 
she  ought  to  suffer,"  the  lady  was  accustomed  to 
remark  when  dwelling  upon  this  very  disagreea- 
ble subject.  j 

Anine  had  gone  to  take  the  tray  and  things 
back  to  the  kitchen,  and  Lady  Hortense  took 
advantage  of  her  absence  and  lifted  the  window 
to  admit  a  breath  of  the  fresh  cold  air.  She 
smiled  down  upon  the  happy  children  who 
thronged  the  pavement  below,  and  those  who  eaw 
here  were  haunted  all  day  by  her  pale,  sad  face 
and  wistful  eyes. 

Anine  entered  the  room  just  as  her  mistress 
was  about  to  close  the  window  again,  and  hurried 
forward  to  shut  the  heavy  sash  herself. 

As  she  did  so  there  was  gentle  reproof  in  her 
eyes  which  seemed  to  say  : 


"  THE  BRIDE  OF  IK FELICE"  241 

"You  know,  miladi,  the  doctor  warned  you. 
against  exposure  to  the  cold  air." 

Interpreting  the  look,  Lady  Hortense  said  as  if 
in  self-defense,  "  I  only  looked  out  for  an  instant, 
Anine,  I  longed  for  one  fresh,  free  breath  of  air,  I 
have  been  shut  up  in  these  rooms  for  over  a 
fortnight,  you  know." 

As  she  spoke  the  footman  entered  the  room 
bearing  a  little  silver  tray  upon  which  was  a  card. 

As  Lady  Hortense  traced  the  name  upon  this, 
a  ghastly  hue  crept  to  her  lips,  and  something 
like  a  gasp  escaped  them. 

She,  however,  collected  herself  immediately, 
and  said  to  the  servant  :  "  Say  to  the  gentleman 
that  I  will  be  down  immediately." 

As  she  entered  the  drawing-room  a  few 
moments  later,  the  window-hangings  were  closely 
drawn,  and  her  visitor  could  not  distinctly  see 
her  face  as  he  stepped  forward  to  greet  her,  but 
he  noticed  that  the  little  hand  she  gave  him  was 
cold  as  an  icicle,  and  that  it  trembled  in  his 
clasp,  sending  that  strange  thrill  through  his 
being  which  he  had  experienced  on  the  night 
of  the  charades  at  Maplehurst. 

"I  trust  you  are  feeling  better  to-day,  Lady 
Camden,"  he  said,  in  his  low,  grave  voice. 

She,  evading  his  remark,  motioned  to  a  chair, 
and  when  they  were  both  seated  she  asked  after 
Valois  and  his  aunt  who  had  not  been  to  see  her 
for  several  days. 


242  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

,  He  replied  that  they  were  both  well.  "  It  is  in 
behalf  of  them  that  I  have  called  upon  you  so 
unceremoniously,"  he  explained.  "  They  have 
commissioned  me  to  bring  you  to  spend  the 
afternoon  and  dine  with  us  this  evening." 

Lady  Hortense  hesitated  a  moment,  then  said  : 

"  Mr.  Volney,  it  would  give  me  infinite  pleasure, 
but  I  have  not  left  my  apartments  for  two 
weeks." 

"  I  have  brought  an  abundance  of  rugs,  and  the 
carriage  is  free  from  draughts,"  argued  the  young 
Englishman.  "  This,"  he  added  persuasively, 
"  is  to  be  a  quiet  little  home  affair.  My  aunt 
has  only  asked  Lieutenant  Carruthers  and  Miss 
Meredith,  besides  yourself." 

•'  Oh,  in  that  event,"  returned  Lady  Camden, 
with  an  effort  at  pleasantry,  "  I  should  only  be 
de  trop." 

.He  lifted  his  hand  with  a  deprecating  gesture, 
but  not  heeding  this,  Lady  Hortense  continued  : 

"I  have  just  heard  of  Valois'  engagement,  and 
must  commission  you  with  my  warmest  con- 
gratulations to  my  little  friend  and  her  fiance.  I 
think  it  an  admirable  match.  They  seem  so 
fitted  for  each  other." 

"Yes,  admirable;  satisfactory  in  every  sense 
of  the, word,"  conceded  Volney  in  a  pre-occupied 
tone,  then  after  a  little  hesitation  he  lifted  his 
eyes  from  the  carpet  and  regarded  her  with  them, 
as  though  wishing  her  to  see  there  the  elation  and 


"  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE"  243 

happiness  which  they  reflected  from  his  soul. 
She  saw  their  expression  of  exhilaration,  and  drew 
a  sharp,  quick  breath.  Her  heart  throbbed  with 
a  wild  pulsation,  there  was  a  loud  buzzing  sound 
in  her  head,  and  all  seemed  dark  before  her,  yet 
above  it  all  his  voice  came  to  her  faintly.  Pie 
was  saying : 

"  I  hope,  Lady  Camden,  you  will  share  your 
kindly  wishes  with  me.  I  believe  myself  to  be 
the  most  fortunate  and  the  happiest  man  living 
this  Christmas  day.  I  have  won  the  hand  of 
Alice  Meredith  in  betrothal." 

He  had  risen,  as  he  spoke,  as  if  in  very  defer- 
ence of  the  beloved  name,  and  Lady  Hortense, 
vaguely  conscious  of  his  movement,  also  com- 
pelled herself  to  her  feet. 

I  have  said  that  the  room  was  too  dark  for  him 
to  see  her  face  plainly,  but  the  convulsion  was 
over  and  her  voice  sounded  passive  and  calm  as 
before,  as  she  said:  "In  winning  the  love  and 
confidence  of  such  a  woman  as  Alice  Meredith, 
you  are  indeed  blessed  above  the  generality  of 
men,  Mr.  Volney  ;  but  I  think — I  know  you 
fully  merit  your  good  fortune,  and  I  congratulate 
you  with  all  my  heart  and  soul  !  " 

She  gave  him  her  cold,  lifeless  hand  as  she 
spoke,  and  he  raised  it  reverently  to  hi  4  lips. 

A  few  minutes  later  he  had  left  the  hotel,  and 
Lady  Camden  again  sat  at  the  window  in  her 
boudoir  with  her  maid  beside  her. 


244  THE  BRIDE  OF  1KFELIC& 

"Anine,"  said  she,  suddenly  turning  to  the  girl 
who  was  occupied  with  some  needlework.  "  I 
crave  so  for  the  quiet  of  Maplehurst.  The  con- 
stant rattle  on  these  streets  at  times  almost 
maddens  me.  My  nerves  crave  for  repose." 

"  I  know,  miladi,"  said  Anine,  laying  aside  her 
work,  "  and  I  have  often  wished  that  we  had  not 
come  to  town  at  all.  I  think  you  would  have 
been  better,  had  you  remained  at  Maplehurst." 

At  her  words,  Lady  Hortense  turned  and  laid 
her  head  upon  the  girl's  shoulder,  where  for  a 
moment  she  wept  in  silence. 

"  Oh  Anine,"  presently  she  sobbed,  "  if  I  only 
could  spend  this  Christmas  night  at  home  !  Take 
me  to  Maplehurst  for  just  this  one  night !  I  will 
wrap  up  warmly,  and  we  can  hire  a  sleigh  to 
take  us  over  from  L ." 

Who  could  resist  that  suppliant  voice,  and  the 
attitude  of  childish  abandonment  and  confidence? 
Surely  not  Anine,  whose  every  thought  and  wish 
was  for  the  happiness  of  her  mistress.  However, 
the  girl  made  one  frail  effort  to  dissuade  her. 

"But  miladi,  you  are  so  unfit  for  travel,  and  if 
anything  should  happen,  I  alone  would  be 
blamed." 

"What  could  happen  ?  "  asked  Lady  Hortense 
quickly,  lifting  her  wet  face.  "  We  would 
Bimply  have  a  ride  first  on  the  train,  then  in  a 
close,  warm  sleigh.  Oh,  to  think  of  sleeping  once 
more  in  the  Louis  Quinze  bedroom,  ,-with  peace 


"  THE  BRIDE  OF.  IS  FELICE"  245 

and  quiet  around  me,  makes  me  almost  happy  ! 
Come  !  if  we  hasten  we  shall  be  able  to  catch  the 
three  o'clock  train  out." 

"  But  Monsieur,  Sir  Philip  has  all  the  keys  to 
Maplehurst.  We  cannot  get  in." 

Lady  Hortense  laughed ;  then  rising,  ehe 
crossed  the  room  to  a  little  ebony  stand,  upon 
which  stood  a  small  box  of  Italian  mosaic. 

She  lifted  the  lid  of  -this  and  took  from  thence 
a  large  brass  key.  This  she  held  up  triumph- 
antly, saying,  as  she  did  so:  "You  are  mistaken, 
my  good  Anine,  Sir  Philip  has  not  all  the  keys. 
This  belongs  to  the  front  door.  I  purloined  it 
from  the  ring  before  Sir  Philip  went  away,  think- 
ing I  might  have  cause  to  use  it.  Come,  now, 
let  us  lose  no  time." 

And  seeing  that  it  were  useless  to  protest,  Anine 
rose  and  set  about  preparing  for  their  departure. 
They  had  but  to  pack  a  small  portmanteau,  and 
partake  of  tea,  which  beverage  Lady  Hortense 
now  drank  thirstily,  even  taking  a  second  cup  ; 
for  this  new  ambition  had  suddenly  restored  her 
to  artificial  health. 

It  was  a  great  stimulant,  and  as  she  adjusted 
her  shawls  and  sables,  there  was  a  glow  on  her 
cheek  and  a  heightened  brightness  in  her  eye 
which  made  her  look  like  the  beautiful  Hortense 
of  old. 

Everything  was  in  readiness  and  they  were  just 
on  the  point  of  quitting  thier  apartments  when 


246  THE  BRIDE  OF  IXFELICE 

suddenly  anil  unannounced,  Mrs.  Ayers  burst  in 
upon  them. 

"  Why  !  my  dear  Hortense,  where  are  you 
going  ?  "  asked  that  dowager  breathlessly,  and  in 
wide  amazement,  as  she  glanced  from  the  muffled 
form  of  her  daughter  to  the  traveling  bag,  and 
then  at  Anine. 

"  I  am  going  to  Maplehurst,  and — and  mamma, 
dear,  you  really  must  forgive  me  for  running  away 
and  leaving  you,  but  we  must  get  this  train.  By 
any  other  we  should  reach  Maplehurst  after 
dark." 

Mrs.  Ayers  pursed  her  thin  lips  and  drew  her- 
self up  to  her  colossal  height. 

"  Well,  I  never  ! "  exclaimed  she,  for  once  for- 
getting her  dignity  and  speaking  in  a  shrill  voice. 
"You  can  ride  all  the  distance  to  Maplehurst 
through  the  snow,  yet  you  are  too  ill  to  attend 
the  Arundel  ball  with  me  to-night  ?  Such  incon- 
sistency amounts  to  madness  !  " 

"  Oh,  well,  mamma  dear,  I  really  have  not  time 
for  argument,  only  kiss  me  good-bye,  won't  you?  " 

The  plethoric  lady  in  broadcloth  and  sealskins 
stood  like  a  monument  of  stone,  and  poor  Hor- 
tense was  compelled  to  print  her  kiss  upon  a  pair 
of  cold,  unresponsive  lips. 

Oh,  had  that  mother  foreseen  the  morrow  and 
the  awful  form  that  stood  in  the  nearing  vista, 
beckoning,  beckoning,  to  the  "  Bride  of  Infelice  !  " 
But  no  prescience  of  the  close-impending  doom 


"  THE  BRIDE  OF  ISEELICE  "  £47 

came  to  her.  She  stood  gazing  after  her  daugh- 
ter with  the  same  immobile  features,  and  when 
Lady  Hortense  and  her  maid  had  quite  disap- 
peared, she  entered  her  carriage  and  was  driven 
homeward,  where  the  hairdresser  was  impatiently 
awaiting  to  arrange  her  coiffure  for  the  ball. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

THE   DIAMOND    BRACELET 

O  Reason!  who  shall  say  what  spells  renew, 
When  least  we  look  for  it,  thy  broken  clew! 
Through  what  small  vistas  o'er  the  darkened  brain 
Thy  intellectual  day-beams  burst  again; 
And  how,  like  forts,  to  which  beleaguerers  win 
Unhoped-for  entrance  through  some  friend  within, 
One  clear  idea  awakened  in  the  breast 
By  Mem'ry's  magic  lets  in  all  the  rest. 

— Moore's  "  Lalla  Rookh." 

The  fool  of  nature  stood  with  stupid  eyes 
*          And  gaping  mouth  that  testified  surprise. 

— Dryden. 

DURING  Sir  Philip's  sojourn  in  New  York  he 
was  registered  "at  a  Broadway  hotel,  .but 
frequently  was  to  be  seen  lounging  in  the  read- 
ing-room or  about  the  foyer  of  a  fashionable 
rendezvous  in  Fifth  Avenue,  upon  the  second  floor 
of  which  establishment  a  certain  young  and  beau- 
tiful Creole  lady  had  apartments. 

Her  name  was  whispered  by  wiseacres  about 
the  hotel  as  "  Madame  de  Joules." 

During  her  sojourn  in  New  York  Madame  de 
Joules  had  attracted  considerable  attention  at  the 
opera  where  she  had  occupied  a  proscenium  box 
almost  every  evening,  and  was  conspicuous  be- 
cause of  the  rare  elegance  of  her  toilets  as  well  as 
the  great  beauty  of  her  face. 
(248) 


THE  DIAMOND  BRACELET  249 

« 

Popular  society  men,  after  seeing  her  at  the 
play,  would  seek  out  and  introduce  themselves  to 
Sir  Philip  Camden,  who  invariably  attended 
Madame,  and  through  whom  they  fondly  hoped 
to  be  presented  to  her.  But  Sir  Philip,  divining 
the  bent  of  their  compliments,  only  laughed  at 
them  in  his  sleeve,  as  it  were,  and  dismissed  them, 
each  in  their  turn,  with  punctilious  politeness. 

u  Madame  de  Joules  is  a  recluse,"  he  remarked 
in  one  instance  to  an  eager  suppliant  who  had 
been  less  politic  than  his  fellows,  and  boldly  de- 
clared his  wish  to  be  introduced  to  the  beautiful 
stranger.  "She  is  a  foreigner,  and  withal  averse 
to  American  society." 

On  Christmas  night  the  couple  had  dined  at 
Delmonico's,  and  as  they  were  quitting  the  res- 
taurant they  came  abruptly  face  to  face  with  Mr. 
Fred  Bentwell  of  Boston  in  whose  company  was 
the  identical  distingue  who  had  importuned  Sir 
Philip  to  present  him  to  Madame  de  Joules  on 
the  night  previous. 

The  couples  passed  without  exchanging  any 
words  of  recognition,  but  the  eyes  of  Sir  Philip's 
companion,  and  those  of  Fred  Bentwell  had  met 
for  an  instant,  whereupon  the  woman's  face 
flushed  scarlet,  then  turned  to  a  deathly  paleness, 
while  her  fingers  closed  tenaciously  over  Sir 
Philip's  stalwart  arm. 

He  felt  her  tremble  violently,  as  they  walked 
on.  Presently  she  spoke,  anjl  her  naturally  soft, 


250  THE  BRIDE  OF  1NFELICE 

musical  voice  now  sounded  harsh  with  suppressed 
rage  and  mortification: 

"  Why  did  you  bring  me  out  by  the  public 
way  ?  You  might  have  known  it  was  hazardous." 

"  Why,  Dorian,  more  hazardous  than  for  us  to 
sit  together  in  the  opera  box  ?  "  Sir  Philip  asked 
humbly — he  was  always  humble  before  this 
creature  whom  he  worshiped  as  an  idol. 

"  It  is  no  comparison,"  Dorian  Rossmore 
answered  sharply.  "  Every  one  goes  with  one's 
friend  to  the  theater  ;  but  to  be  seen  .together 
coming  out  of  a  restaurant  and  by  him  of  all 
persons ! " 

Sir  Philip  drew  a  sharp,  quick  breath, 

"  Good  God  !  "  he  exclaimed  hoarsely,  "  do 
you  then  care  for  Bentwell  above  all  others, 
Dorian  ?  " 

She  evaded  his  question. 

"  I  have  the  pride  of  my  mother,  who  was  a 
Spaniard.  I  loathe  esclandre  /"  she  panted. 

"If  Bentwell  is  a  gentleman  of  honor  he  will, 
as  an  admirer  of  yours,  guard  your  reputation," 
hazarded  her  companion. 

"Ah,  bah!"  exclaimed  Dorian,  contemptu- 
ously. "  Could  not  you  see  he  was  intoxicated  ? 
In  such  a  condition  a  man's  tongue  is  a  free 
agent.  By  to-morrow  morning  every  man  that 
haunts  the  foyer  of  my  hotel,  will  have  heard  the 
denouement.  Fred  was  with  one  of  them." 

After  this  a  silence  fell  between  the  two,  which 


THE  DIAMOND  BRACELET  251 

lasted  until  Dorian's  apartments  were  reached. 

Here,  after  Sir  Phillip  had  turned  up  the  lights 
of  the  chandelier,  he  approached  her  and  said,  in 
the  wheedling  tone  he  was  wont  to  adopt  when 
with  her  :  "  Dorian,  darling,  do  not  let  us  quarrel 
on  this  of  all  nights." 

The  endearing  term  so  familiarly  used,  brought 
something  like  a  sneer  to  her  red  lips.  She 
regarded  him  calmly,  and  with  her  splendid  eyes 
transfused  with  a  hauteur  so  coldly  severe  that 
it  made  him  writhe  inwardly. 

"  I  have  nothing  more  to  say,"  she  returned  at 
length.  "  I  simply  think  you  insufferably  stupid." 

"  Call  me  stupid — anything,"  said  her  lover, 
passionately,  lifting  one  of  her  hands  to  his  lips, 
"  only,"  he  added, 

"  Make  but  my  name  thy  love  and  love  that  still." 

Dorian  Rossmore  did  not  look  up.  She  could 
not  trust  her  eyes  to  meet  his  at  that  moment, 
lest  he  should  see  in  them  some  of  the  revulsion 
that  suddenly  had  taken  possession  of  her  soul. 

Before  her  vision  there  was  a  picture  that 
would  not  be  banished — a  dissipated  face,  with 
blood-shot,  accusing  eyes  ;  within  her  was  a 
dawning  conception  of  guilt,  engendered  by  their 
gaze.  They  seemed  to  say:  "  It  was  you,  Dorian 
Rossmore,  who  started  me  on  my  downward 
path.  Upon  your  account,  therefore,  shall  all 
my  sins  be  visited  in  the  end."  And  gradually, 
as  she  stood  lost  in  reflections  of  the  past,  there 


252  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFEL1CE 

came  into  her  eyes  an  expression  of  tenderness 
and  subtle  pity. 

She  recalled  the  legion  of  times  that  Fred 
Bentwell  had  whispered  to  her  passionately  of 
his  love — a  love  which  he  had  said  was  the  purest 
and  holiest  part  of  him.  All  at  once  came  burst- 
ing upon  her  the  knowledge  that  that  love  had 
been  the  sweetest  thing  her  life  had  ever  known. 

"Oh,  why  did  I  not  discern  this  in  time  to 
save  myself  and  him  ? "  she  asked  herself 
contritely. 

"  Is  it  too  late  for  retraction  ?  In  ambition  I 
have  been  wicked  ;  but  in  action — never — unless 
it  was  in  marrying  the  man  who  took  me  from 
a  con  vent  and  so  generously  provided  for  me,  and 
whose  money  was  the  only  part  of  him  that  I 
loved.  Unless  it  was  in  coming  to  New  York  by 
special  appointment  with  Sir  Philip,  whom  I 
have  always  hated.  But  this  was  all  mere  strat- 
agem, and  does  not  touch  upon  my  virtue.  I  am 
only  shrewder  than  most  women;  that  is  all." 

"You  do  not  answer  me  Dorian!"  said  Sir 
Philip  at  length,  stung  and  writhing  under  her 
austerity  and  her  silence. 

Dorian  started.  She  had  been  so  lost  in 
meditation  that  she  had  almost  forgotten  his 
presence. 

"  No — to  be  sure,"  said  she,  scarcely  conscious 
of  her  own  words.  Then  in  the  same  absent 
manner  she  commenced  to  divest  herself  of 


THE  DIAMOND  BRACELET  253 

gloves  and  wrap.  This  done,  she  threw  herself 
upon  a  divan,  and  there  reclined  like  Cleopatra 
after  her  dream. 

He  went  and  knelt  beside  her,  and  again 
possessed  himself  of  one  of  her  jewelled  hands — 
that  upon  which  flashed  the  talisman  he  had 
•placed  there  a  little  over  a  month  ago. 

"  My  love,  my  love  !"  he  cried,  "  for  the  love  of 
God  do  not  treat  me  like  this  !  I  can  bear  any- 
thing, Dorian,  but  your  contempt !" 

She  lifted  her  eyes  now  and  met  his  straightway. 

"  Sir  Philip,"  she  said,  "pray  leave  me  for  a 
little  time.  WThen  you  return  I  shall  —  I  hope  — 
be  more  agreeable." 

For  one  moment  he  gazed  at  her  in  silence, 
then  he  rose  and  quitted  the  room,  merely 
pausing,  as  he  reached  the  door,  to  cast  a 
backward  glance  toward  her.  But  she  did  not 
see  his  look  of  mute  entreaty.  She  lay  quite 
still,  with  her  face  buried  in  the  scented 
cushions,  waiting  impatiently  for  the  door  to 
close  him  from  her  presence. 

The  signal  came,  and  then  she  heard  his  steps 
falling  sluggishly  along  the  corridor.  When 
these  had  quite  died  away  she  rose  hastily,  and 
crossing  the  room  to  her  writing  desk,  proceeded 
to  pen  just  three  hasty  lines  to  Fred  Bentwell, 
which  she  sealed  and  addressed  to  the  hotel  at 
which  he  always  stopped  when  in  New  York. 
They  ran  thus  : 


254         .  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFEL1CE 

"  I  return  to  Boston  by  first  train  to-morrow.  Come 
back  to  me,  Freddy,  and  let  me  tell  you  how  sincerely 
penitent  I  am  for  the  cruel  manner  in  which  I  have 
treated  you.  YOUK  OWN  DORIAN." 

"Deliver  this  immediately,"  she  said  to  the 
boy  who  responded  to  her  bell.  And  as  she 
dropped  a  coin  into  his  ready  palm,  she  knew  by 
the  sparkle  of  his  eyes  that  he  would  serve  her  as» 
bidden. 

"Now,"  soliloquised  Dorian,  as  she  turned 
back  into  her  apartments  after  dismissing  the 
messenger,  "  must  I  'screw  my  courage  to  the 
sticking-place'  and  tell  Sir  Philip  that  all  record 
of  our  intimacy  must  be  wiped  from  the  tablets  of 
his  heart.  Foiled — utterly  foiled  has  been  my 
purpose  in  pursuing  him  here,  ineffectual  have 
proven  all  my  sophistries  to  establish  him  the 
villain  of  my  suspicions.  That  he  is  a  villain. 
that  he  husbands  a  past  career  in  which  is 
written  the  dark  history  of  this  talisman  upon 
my  finger,  that  he  did  not  buy  it  with  honest 
means  I  feel  certain — certain  as  though  the 
sepulchre  of  my  dead  sister  had  opened  its 
marble  jaws  and  she  had  walked  forth  to  tell  me 
so.  He  tells  me  he  has  never  lived  in  Paris — a 
few  days  subsequently  we  were  talking  of  the 
burning  of  great  buildings,  when  suddenly  for- 
getting himself,  he  says,  '  But  the  burning  of  the 

Theatre  in  Paris,  in  18 — ,  was  the  greatest 

fire !     I  never   saw   such  a  panic  in  my   life.' 
'  You  were  in  Paris  at  that  time  ?'tl  ask,  hoping 


TEE  DIAMOND  BRACELET  253 

he  will  not  detect  the  swift  hot  glow  I  feel  on  my 
face.  'Merely  for  a  day  or  BO,'  he  answers 
guardedly.  And  so  it  has  happened  repeatedly, 
that  just  at  the  instant  I  find  myself  on  the  brink 
of  a  revelation,  my  eyes  are  suddenly  blind- 
folded and  the  shape  that  began  to  define  itself 
before  me  sinks  back  into  the  abysmal  darkness, 
and  I  ani  left  shivering  in  dire  defeat.  Is  it 
right,  is  it  just,  0  Providence,  answer  me  !  that 
the  thorns  of  suspicion  should  so  pierce  and 
sting  me,  while  you  sit,  able  to  relieve  me  of  my 
suffering,  and  yet  refuse  to  allieviate — nay,  that 
you  seem  to  mock  me  with  repeated  disappoint- 
ments that  are  agonizing  ?"  For  a  moment  tears 
dimmed  her  splendid  eyes  ;  the  next,  they  shone 
out  with  a  resolute  fire,  and  her  fingers  were 
quite  steady  as  they  removed  the  blazing 
talisman  from  her  hand,  and  placed  it  upon  the 
cabinet. 

At  that  moment  there  came  a  gentle  rap  upon 
the  door. 

"  Entrez  ! "  she  called  out  faintly. 

What  a  picture  she  presented,  standing  there 
in  her  shining  velvet  robes,  encompassed  with 
the  radiance  which  streamed  from  the  chandelier, 
and  with  the  golden  tapestries  forming  a  rich  and 
harmonious  background  for  her  beautiful  image. 
How  enchanting !  how  superb !  how  divinely 
beautiful ! 

Her   "  Entrez,"  as  it  reached   the  ear  of  Sir 


256  THE  BRIDE  OF  INEELICE 

Philip,  thrilled  him  with  renewed  hope,  for  it 
seemed  to  chime  out  with  the  cadence  of  true 
welcome. 

He  crossed  the  threshold  with  a  countenance 
almost  transfigured  in  its  love-light ;  and,  misin- 
terpreting the  smile  upon  her  lips,  he  bounded 
forward  with  the  joyful  cry  of  "  Dorian  !  My 
love  I" 

She  suffered  him  in  silence  to  take  her  hand, 
knowing  he  would  at  once  note  the  absence  of  his 
ring. 

This  he  did,  and  dropped  the  member  quickly, 
as  though  it  had  stung  him. 

"  Sorceress  /"  he  almost  hissed,  as  taking  a  back- 
ward step,  he  measured  her  from  head  to  foot 
with  the  green  fury  of  his  eyes. 

She  stood  regal  as  a  queen  under  this  scorch- 
ing scrutiny,  and  the  smile  upon  her  face  deep- 
ened until  dimples  played  there. 

"  Pray,  mon  ami,'"  said  she,  with  a  little  be- 
witching poise  of  the  head,  "  do  not  look  at  me  as 
though  you  would  delight  in  strangling  me.  Re- 
member woman's  frailty  !  I  am  no  exception  to 
the  rule,  a*nd  caprice  is  a  game  which  we  all 
play  at  sometimes,  you  know." 

He  muttered  a  stifled  curse ;  then  turning 
swiftly,  he  paced  the  room  back  and  forth,  snap- 
ping his  fingers  in  the  very  excess  of  fury. 

Meanwhile  Dorian  threw  herself  upon  the  low 


THE  DIAMOND  BRACELET  257 

divan,  and  half  reclining  there,  toyed  with  the 
silken  fringe  of  the  cushions. 

Sir  Philip  at  length  ceased  his  mad  parade, 
and  went  and  stood  before  her. 

She  looked  up  and  met  his  green,  glaring  eyes 
unflinchingly,  and  with  a  faint  smile  of  amuse- 
ment still  lingering  about  her  lips. 

"You  have  been  flitting  entirely  too  near  the 
flame,  Mrs.  Moth,  and  if  you  examine  your  wings 
closely  you  will  find  them  scorched.  A —  you 
have  carried  your  coquetry  quite  too  far  for  re- 
traction, don't  you  think,? "  he  said  with  the 
same  indolent  drawl  that  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
using  when  talking  to  Lady  Hortense,  and  with 
dire  significance  in  his  words. 

She  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  said  : 

"  It  is  never  too  late,  Monsieur  Philip,  to  make 
an  effort  at  amendment." 

He  laughed  his  noiseless,  Satanic  kind  of  a 
laugh — that  laugh  which  Lady  Hortense  could 
never  hear  without  feeling  her  blood  run  cold. 

"The  sight  of  that  milk-sop,  Bentwell,  has 
played  the  devil  with  you  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "You 
would  let  a  man  with  an  income  that  would  not 
keep  you  in  gloves,  come  between  you  and  such 
a  future  as  I  have  opened  out  before  you  !  View 
yourself  at  Maplehurst  with  wealth  on  every 
hand,  with  liveried  servants  coming  at  your  bid  ; 
with  the  gentry  of  the  populace  bowing  before 
you,  and  calling  you  '  Lady  Dorian,'  or  '  Lady 


258  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICS 

Camden.'  View  yourself  presiding  over  my  royal 
entertainments.  View  yourself  sealing  your  let- 
ters with  the  Camden  coat  of  arms,  or  riding  in 
your  carriage  emblazoned  with  the  same  distin- 
guished sign.  And  now  let  this  picture  come  to 
blot  out  the  liveried  servants,  the  Lady  Dorian, 
the  royal  entertainments,  the  letters  with  their 
imposing  seal,  and  the  emblazoned  carriage. 
See  yourself  reclining  in  a  faded  drawing- 
room " 

"  Stop,  Sir  Philip,  let  me  draw  the  picture  !  " 
Dorian  suddenly  interrupted  him  peremptorily, 
and  without  looking  up  from  the  fringes  which 
she  still  toyed  with  absently,  she  went  on  with 
implacable  calm  : 

"  See  me  reclining  in  a  modest — not  a,  faded — 
drawing-room.  I  would  never  have  anything  dull 
or  spoiled  about  me.  See  my  husband  sitting  at 
my  feet,  gazing  up  into  my  face  with  gentle  de- 
voted eyes,  whose  love-light  speaks  to  my  inner- 
most soul  and  makes  it  respond.  See  his  hand 
clasp  mine.  Hear  his  voice  calling  me  by  the 
old  favorite  name — '  Doria  !'  Now  let  this  pic- 
ture stay  before  me,  Sir  Philip.  It  cannot  be 
counter-crossed  !  If  I  marry  Fred  Bentwell  I 
have  ample  for  us  both.  My  late  husband  did 
not  leave  me  dowerless." 

She  paused  and  raised  her  resolute  face  to  his. 
As  she  did  so  she  noticed  that  Sir  Philip  held  in 
his  hand  a  small  jewel  case.  He  fiad  suddenly 


THE  DIAMOND  BRACELET  259 

bethought  him  of  the  Christmas  gift  which  all 
day  he  had  carried  in  his  pocket,  awaiting  a  fav- 
orable opportunity  to  present  it  to  his  enchant- 
ress. He  saw  her  eyes  rivet  themselves  with 
momentary  curiosity  upon  the  case,  then  avert 
themselves  indifferently. 

"I  had  brought  you  such  an  exquisite  Christ- 
mas present,  Dorian,"  said  the  suave  voice  of 
the  tempter.  "  It  is  one  that  I  bought  when 
abroad  last  winter.  I  had  intended  it  as  a  gift  to 
my  present  wife.  But  during  the  past  month  I 
have  been  looking  forward  to  this  night  when  I 
would  clasp  it  upon  the  arm  of  the  only  true  love 
of  my  life — Dorian ! " 

She  waved  her  hand  with  a  gesture  of  keen 
annoyance  as  he  dared,  even  yet,  to  offer  her  the 
jewel. 

u  At  least,  look  at  it.  The  sight  will  in  no  wise 
contaminate  you.  I  assure  you  it  is  a  marvelous 
piece  of  workmanship."  As  he  spoke  he  slowly 
lifted  the  lift  of  the  case,  and  now  he  held  before 
her  its  secret — a  bracelet  of  diamonds. 

The  stones  were  set  at  close  but  irregular  inter- 
vals upon  a  foundation  of  Etruscan  gold  ;  and 
the  most  critical  observer  would  likely  have  failed 
to  notice  that  they  composed  a  series  of  letters. 

How  was  it  then  that  after  the  most  casual 
glance  Dorian  Rossmore  noticed  the  characters  and 
shrieked  out  like  one  suddenly  stricken  mad  as 
she  sprang  to  her  feet  and  clutched  at  the  bauble? 


260  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

"  Mon  Dieu  !  Give  it  me  ! "  she  cried.  That 
sudden  and  frenzied  shriek  rendered  Sir  Philip 
spell-bound. 

Without  a  word  he  yielded  to  her  the  bracelet, 
staggering  backward  as  he  did  so,  as  though  he 
had  been  smitten  a  mighty  blow,  his  eyes  meeting 
her  staring,  horrified  ones,  with  an  expression 
that  was  no  less  wild  and  startled. 

"  For  the  love  of  God,  Dorian,  do  not  look  at 
me  like  that  ! "  he  composed  himself  at  length 
sufficiently  to  say. 

"  Where  did  you  get  this  bracelet  f  "  panted  the 
woman,  holding  the  glittering  diamonds  up  be- 
tween their  gaze. 

"  I  have  said  that  I  bought  it  while  I  was  abroad 
list  winter,"  he  answered  her  quietly  and  lacon- 
ically. 

"But  where?  Where?  Where?  I  say!"  screamed 
Dorian  Rossmore  in  wildest  frenzy. 

"  At  Florence,"  he  answered  still  with  dogged 
brevity. 

"  But  at  what  jeweler's?  Tell  me  at  what  jew- 
eler's? This  is  my  murdered  sister's  bracelet ! 
See  !  Read  the  name  formed  of  these  stones  ! " 

He  advanced  and  bent  over  her  as,  with  trem- 
bling fingers,  she  traced  out  the  letters  which  he 
had  never  before  noticed  :  "JULIE  D'ARCY." 

"  Julie  d'Arcy  !  "  gasped  the  man  ;  then  swiftly 
collecting  himself,  he  met  her  eyes  and  exclaimed 
again :  • 


THE  DIAMOND  BRACELET  261 

"  Oh,  Dorian,  for  the  love  of  God  do  not  look 
at  me  like  that ! " 

Her  eyes  were  becoming  fixed  and  stony  in 
their  gaze.  She  swayed  helplessly  to  and  fro. 
Another  moment  and  she  had  fallen  backward  on 
the  divan,  where  she  lay  in  a  death-like  swoon, 
with  the  diamond  bracelet  clutched  tightly  in  her 
hand. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

THE   DENOUEMENT 

Dire  combustions  and  confused  eventa 
Kew-hatched  to  the  woeful  time. 

— Macbeth. 

THE  emergency  was  a  startling  one  even  to  Sir 
Philip  Camden  who  stood  for  some  moments 
striving  to  collect  his  errant  senses.  At  length 
he  resolved,  like  one  accustomed  to  philosophize 
from  a  hazardous  standpoint,  that  it  would  be  far 
the  wisest  plan  not  to  summon  assistance  to  the 
unconscious  Dorian,  so  he  himself  set  about  with 
assiduity  to  restore  her. 

Luckily,  he  found  upon  the  lady's  dressing- 
table  a  bottle  of  cologne,  which  liquid  he  gener- 
ously applied  to  her  brow  and  lips,  even  forcing 
a  few  drops  between  the  set  teeth. 

But  while  thus  busily  engaged  were  his  thoughts 
and  anxieties  entirely  of  Dorian  ?  If  so,  why  did 
his  narrow,  evil  eyes  wander  so  often  from  her 
white  features  to  the  hand  in  which  she  still  held 
in  a  vice-like  clasp  the  diamond  bracelet  ? 

Once  he  made  a  movement  as  though  he  would, 

by  main  force,  have  torn  the  jewel  from  its  shield, 

but  just  at  that  instant  Mrs.  Rossmore  betokened 

signs  of  returning  consciousness,  and   all  that 

(262)  • 


THE  DENOUEMENT  263 

shone  in  her  attendant's  face,  when  presently  she 
opened  her  eyes,  was  the  most  lover-like  solici- 
tude. 

"  My  poor  Dorian  !  "  he  whispered,  and  his 
voice  was  soft  and  cooing  as  a  wood-dove's,  and 
bespoke  naught  of  the  agitation  lying  latent 
under  his  breath  ;  but-  the  woman  felt  that  breath 
upon  her  face  hot  as  if  fanned  from  a  burning 
furnace. 

At  his  words,  she  started  into  a  sitting  posture 
and  thrust  him  from  her  fiercely. 

"  Ceil ! "  cried  she,  shuddering  and  covering 
her  face  with  both  hands.  "  What  is  here  ?  What 
is  this  horrible  revelation  ?  " 

"Dorian,  try  and  calm  yourself  to  tell  me 
something  of  the  dark  story  with  which  these 
diamonds  seem  to  be  so  mysteriously  connected," 
said  Sir  Philip,  and  he  dared  to  lay  his  hand 
upon  her's  as  he  spoke,  but  she  shook  off  the 
member  with  another  repulsive  shudder. 
—"  Don't  touch  me  !  "  cried  she,  uncovering  her 
face  and  flashing  her  Creole  eyes  upon  him,  like 
an  envenomed  reptile,  when  about  to  spring  upon 
its  victim.  "  Do  not  dare  to  touch  me.  Sir  Philip 
Camden !  but  tell  me  exactly  how  you  came  in 
possession  of  my  dead  sister's  jewels — the  ring 
which  you  gave  me  as  a  talisman,  and  this 
bracelet  are  stained  with  her  blood,  like  unknown 
thousands  of  pounds'  worth  in  gems  and  money 
purloined  by  the  same  atrocious  hand  that  thrust 


264  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

the  fatal  poignard  in  her  breast.  I  would  know 
from  whence  and  the  very  moment  they  came  in 
your  keeping  ?  " 

Before  answering  her,  Sir  Philip  threw  himself 
quite  at  ease,  into  a  chair  a  short  space  apart  from 
where  she  was  sitting. 

"  I  have  told  you,  Dorian,  that  I  bought  the 
bracelet  at  a  Florentine  jeweler's  ;  the  ring  I  pur- 
chased also  in  Florence,"  he  said  complacently. 

Mrs.  Rossmore  uttered  a  shriek  of  impatience 
at  his  words. 

"  Why  will  you  be  so  impervious  ?  That  is 
wholly  unsatisfactory  !  There  are  scores  of 
jewelers  in  Florence.  What  name  ?  Who  was 
the  merchant  ?  Upon  what  street  was  his  estab- 
lishment ?  " 

"  How  should  I  remember,  ma  chere  f  I  was  in 
that  city  but  two  days,  and  took  no  notice  of  the 
names  of  firms,  or  streets.  I  was  merely  passing, 
and  peeing  the  baubles  displayed  in  the  windows, 
thought  them  unique  and  pretty  and  bought 
them." 

It  seemed  that  the  lurid  fire  from  her  eyes  must 
have  burned  its  way  to  his  being's  quickest  fibre; 
if  so  Sir  Philip  evinced  no  outward  sign  of  dis- 
comfiture. He  met  her  gaze  steadily,  and  with- 
out the  slightest  facial  quiver  as  he  thus  spoke, 
and  then  sat,  like  an  image  carved  from  stone, 
under  the  scoffing  surveillance  which  followed, 
and  during  which  Mrs.  Rossmore  noted  for  the 


THE  DENOUEMENT  265 

first  time  the  ugly  scar  which  half-revealed  itself 
on  his  upper  lip  under  the  thin  and  tawny 
moustache. 

"  His  face  is  one  of  subtilty  and  evil.  Peste  !  it 
is  a  serpent's  face !  Why  have  I  never  before 
marked  its  resemblance  to — " 

Suddenly  she  seemed  to  feel  the  cold  clasp  of 
arms  about  her  neck,  and  to  hear  a  voice  whisper 
something  that  made  her  shrink  back  against  the 
cushions  of  the  divan,  ghastly  pale  and  shivering 
as  with  a  nervous  chill. 

At  length  she  unriveted  her  dazed  eyes  from 
Sir  Philip's  countenance,  and  fixed  them  upon 
the  bracelet  of  diamonds.  He  noticed  now  that 
her  bosom  heaved  convulsively,  and  believing  her 
to  be  weeping,  he  took  advantage  of  this  softened 
mood  to  say,  with  a  tremor  of  well  assumed 
pathos  in  his  voice  :  "  Tell  me,  Dorian — for  your 
griefs  sake,  tell  me  the  story  of  your  past  life. 
When  did  this — oh  it  seems  too  dreadful,  too  hor- 
rible ! — this  murder  occur  ?  Commence  first  and 
tell  me  something  of  your  sister ;  I  have  never 
heard  you  speak  of  her." 

"To  speak  of  Julie,"  said  Mrs.  Rossmore,  her 
gaze  still  riveted  upon  the  jewel  in  her  hand,  and 
now  her  voice  sounded  with  wonderful  composure, 
"  means  also  to  speak  of  myself.  I  fear  you  will 
find  my  story  tedious,  but  I  will  make  it  brief  as 
possible. 

"Eleven  years  ago,"   she  commenced,  "upon 


266  THE  WIDE  OFINFELICE 

the  death  of  my  father,  Julie  and  I  were  placed 
in  a  convent  at  Paris.  My  sister  was  two  years 
my  senior,  and  beautiful  beyond  expression. 
Almost  from  the  very  day  we  entered  the  convent 
the  sisters  began  importuning  her  to  fit  herself 
for  the  adoption  of  the  veil — to  consecrate  her  life 
in  behalf  of  the  Church.  Even  the  priest  would 
implore  her  when  she  would  go  to  confession  to 
devote  herself  to  the  studies  of  the  lives  of  saints 
and  to  have  no  other  ambition  beyond  that  of  the 
holy  faith. 

"  This  went  on  for  two  years,  during  which  time, 
instead  of  yielding  to  their  supplications,  Julie 
became  more  hardened  each  day  against  them. 
She  grew  almost  to  despise  the  faith,  and  at  times, 
in  a  great  passion  would  renounce  it.  One  night 
she  went  to  confessional,  and  after  pleading 
vainly  with  her  for  a  long  while,  the  padre 
ended  by  calling  upon  her  soul  a  dreadful 
malediction.  'You  have  been  branded  with  a 
fatal  beauty,'  he  said.  '  You  will  go  out  into  the 
wicked  world  in  uncovered  orphanage,  and  your 
face  will  be  your  curse  1  May  it  be  so,  0  Holy 
One  !  If  she  does  not  seal  her  life  to  the  Church, 
may  Thy  curse  be  upon  her  head  ! ' 

"  She  came  back  to  me  from  the  chapel,  looking 
in  her  fury,  like  a  demented  wraith.  In  running 
through  the  long  corridors,  her  hair  had  become 
loosened,  and  hung  far  below  her  knees  in 
shining  jetty  waves.  Her  eyes  gli^ered  wildly. 


THE  DENOUEMENT  267 

and  every  fibre  of  her  beautiful  face  quivered 
with  the  anger  that  consumed  her.  Standing 
thus  before  me,  she  tore  the  rosary  from  about 
her  neck  and,  breaking  the  beads  asunder,  cast 
them  to  the  floor  and  trod  upon  them. 

"  '  I  despise  thee  ! '  she  cried  passionately.  '  I 
loathe  thee,  and  the  sisters  and  the  Mother 
Superior  and  the  priests  !  I  loathe  all  connected 
with  the  Roman  Catholic  religion  ! ' 

"  Then  she  turned  to  me  and  her  face  softened. 
She  threw  herself  upon  her  knees  beside  me,  and 
soon  her  whole  form  was  convulsed  with  sobs. 
For  some  time  she  wept  unrestrainedly.  When 
the  paroxysm  had  passed  and  she  was  calm  again, 
she  lifted  her  face  to  mine  and  said  in  a  voice  of 
terrible  resolve — •'  Dorian,  I  am  sorry  for  what  I 
said  about  the  sisters  and  tha  Mother  Superior. 
They  have  been  very  kind  to  us  both,  and  I  do 
not  hate  them.  I  hope  the  Holy  Virgin  will 
forgive  my  angry  words.  But  I  am  going  to 
escape  from  this  prison  !  Oh  my  sister,  help  me  ! 
If  I  remain  here  another  month  my  reason  will 
forsake  me — I  shall  go  mad!' 

"  I  saw  she  was  in  fearful  earnest,  and  I  pitied 
her  from  my  inmost  heart. 

"The  convent  is  not  that  heaven  where  one 
invariably  finds  the  contentment  of  soul  that  is. 
alleged,  and  where  all  the  instincts  of  nature  are 
appeased  by  the  Holy  Spirit; — the  soul  may  be 
humble,  the  instincts  controlled  in  a  certain 


268  THE  BRIDE  OF  1XFELICE 

degree,  but  the  natural  impulses  and  emotions 
must  remain  as  long  as  life  supports  the  flesh. 

"Julie  \vas  beautiful,  passionate,  romantic,  cap- 
ricious. Such  a  nature  could  not  be  associated 
with  the  serene,  inactive  life  of  a  convent  any 
more  than  the  soaring  instinct  of  a  bird  can  be 
assuaged. 

11 1  realized  this  and  promised  to  help  obtain 
her  liberation,  if  such  a  thing  were  possible.  Then 
anxiety  of  her  future  seized  upon  me  as  I  remem- 
bered suddenly  that  the  meagre  inheritance  left 
us  by  my  father  had  upon  his  death-day  been 
placed  in  the  hands  of  the  same  priest  who  had 
execrated  my  poor  Julie,  and  who  had  been  ap- 
pointed our  legal  guardian  until  we  became  of  age. 

"  '  What  little  money  we  have,  my  sister,  is 
controlled  by  Father  C .  It  will  be  impossi- 
ble to  obtain  this  ;  and  without  means  how  will 
you  exist  ? '  I  asked  her. 

"  'I  will  get  a  position  as  lady's  maid  until  I 
can  look  about  me.  But  my  ambition  has  always 
been  to  become  an  actress,'  she  said.  '  I  mean  to 
apply  myself  to  the  study  of  minor  parts  for  which 
I  hope  soon  to  be  accepted  at  one  of  the  theatres.' 

"I  had  always  known. that  dramatic  art  was 
the  bent  of  my  sister's  mind,  so  I  made  no  attempt 
to  dissuade  her  in  her  plans. 

"  Now,  it  so  happened  that  my  daily  duty  at 
convent  was  to  accompany  a  sister  on  charitable 
and  missionary  errands. 


THE  DEXOUEMEXT  269 

"  I  knew  that  at  nightfall  on  the  following  day 
the  sister  would  expect  me  to  attend  her  on  a  visit 
of  mercy  to  a  poor,  dying  woman  in  a  squalid 
part  of  the  city. 

"Well,  I  went  to  the  Mother  Superior  late  in 
the  afternoon,  and  pleading  a  severe  headache, 
suggested  that  Julie  be  permitted  to  accompany 
her  in  my  place.  Without  suspicion  she  consented 
and  just  at  dusk  I  kissed  my  darling  in  what  I 
knew  was  a  final  farewell,  and  saw  her  depart 
with  a  countenance  so  transfigured  by  thoughts 
of  her  coming  liberation  that  I  feared  the  keen 
intuition  of  the  sister  would  suspect  and  thwart 
her  intentions.  But  she  did  not.  The  sister  re- 
turned to  the  convent  weeping  and  ringing  her 
hands  in  a  manner  most  distressing  to  see.  She 
stated  that  in  turning  out  of  the  dark,  narrow 
street  where  lived  the  dying  woman  they  had 
been  to  see,  she  had  suddenly  missed  Julie  from 
her  side,  and  had  called  for  her,  loud  and  repeat- 
edly, in  vain. 

"Father  C ,  our  guardian,  reported  her  es- 
cape to  the  authorities  of  Paris,  but  the  latter 
would  adopt  no  means  toward  recovering  her  to 
the  convent,  as  the  record  proved  her  to  be  within 
a  month  of  her  majority. 

"  A  few  months  passed  and  I  had  no  news  of 
my  poor  sister.  Oh,  I  had  always  worshipped  her 
so  !  "  Hereupon  Dorian  was  compelled  to  pause 
for  a  moment  in  order  to  master  her  emotion. 


270  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

Presently  she  continued  : 

"  With  loneliness  and  anxiety  I  could  not  sleep 
of  nights  or  rest  through  the  long,  toilsome  days. 
I  became  stupid  in  my  lessons  and  went  to  chapel 
always  with  my  heart  so  empty  and  disconsolate 
that  I  could  not  pray.  What  made  me  still  more 
wretched  yet :  as  time  went  on  I  began  to  notice 
that  the  sisters  looked  upon  me  with  keen  suspic- 
ion, especially  Sister  Teresa,  from  whom  Julie 
had  made  her  escape,  and  who,  it  seemed  in  very 
malice,  would,  whenever  an  opportunity  offered, 
assign  me  some  disagreeable  task  ;  as,  for  exam- 
ple, watching  all  night  beside  a  sick-bed,  or  teach- 
ing a  batch  of  awkward  girls  how  to  embroider. 
In  this  manner  a  year  passed,  at  the  end  of  which 
time  I  had  growji  to  hate  convent  life  as  bitterly 
as  Julie,  only  in  a  different  way.  The  sisters, 
seeming  to  divine  this,  began  to  watch  me  closer 
than  ever.  I  never  left  my  room  without  I  felt  a 
pair  of  falcon  eyes  upon  me  ;  and  whenever  I 
went  beyond  the  convent  gates  it  was  by  the  side 
of  a  black-robed  and  vigilant  monitress,  who 
always  compelled  me  to  walk  a  little  in  advance 
of  her,  lest,  I  suppose,  by  some  chance  1  might 
escape  as  my  sister  had.  Oh,  I  assure  you,  mine 
had  become  the  life  of  a  convict  !  Indeed,  I  often 
thought  as  I  stood  at  my  third-story  window  look- 
ing out  toward  the  mass  of  domes  and  spires  of 
the  great  city,  that  I  had  rather  be  an  inmate  of 
one  of  its  darkest  prison  cells  than  go*on  living  at 


THE  DENOUEMENT  271 

that  convent.  But,  unconsciously  to  me,  my  term 
of  martyrdom  was  nearing  its  close. 

"  One  afternoon  there  came  a  party  of  visitors 
to  the  convent — three  Englishmen.  As  they 
passed  through  the  ward  in  which  I  was  engaged 
with  my  amateur  class  at  embroidery,  I  glanced 
up  casually  and  met  the  eyes  of  one  of  them. 

"  He  was  not  a  man  of  prepossessing  presence, 
and  his  close,  penetrating  gaze  almost  startled 
me.  I  felt  my  face  burn  hotly  beneath  it.  All 
night  long  I  laid  awake  trying  to  define  the  look 
which  I  had  encountered  in  his  eyes,  and  which 
had  seemed  so  full  of  significance. 

"  The  next  day  it  was  rumored  about  the  con- 
vent that  one  of  the  gentlemen  visitors  who  had 
recently  been  there,  and  who  was  very  wealthy 
and  without  family  ties,  had  seen  a  certain  young 
lady — an  orphan — in  the  school,  for  whom  he 
had  conceived  a  great  fancy,  and  was  eager  to 
adopt  as  his  ward.  I  gave  the  rumor  no  thought 
further  than  to  wonder  if  there  were  any  truth  in 
it,  and  to  feel  a  momentary  impetuous  sensation 
of  envy  toward  the  unknown  '  orphan'  whose  good 
fortune  it  might  have  been  destined  to  escape  the 
trammels.  But  that  night  as  I  was  preparing 
to  retire  there  came  a  little  sharpltap  at  my  door. 
I  opened  it,  and  whom  should  I  behold  but  the 
Mother  Superior,  who  never  paid  a  visit  to  our 
dormitories  except  on  occasions  of  the  most  press- 
ing moment.  She  entered,  and,  as  she  did  so, 


272  THE  BRIDE  OF  1NFELICE 

bade  me  throw  a  mantle  over  my  bedgown,  as 
she  wished  to  talk  with  me. 

"  Wonderingly  I  obeyed  her. 

"  Her  keen  steel-blue  eyes  had  in  them  the 
same  cold  and  disapproving  light  with  which,  of 
late,  they  had  been  wont  to  regard  me,  and  which 
to-night  I  fairly  trembled  beneath,  feeling  an  in- 
stinctive prescience  that  I  was  standing  on  the 
threshold  of  some  great  crisis. 

"  When  I  was  ready  to  listen  I  silently  placed  a 
chair  for  her,  but  she  scorned  to  accept  it,  gave 
me  a  branding  look  for  my  pains,  and,  crossing 
herself,  murmured  something  inarticulate  in 
Latin. 

"  Then  she  addressed  me,  first  surveying  me 
from  head  to  foot,  as  a  chief  on  a  high  seat  of  jus- 
tice might  survey  a  felon  in  the  box  ere  he  pro- 
nounced upon  him  some  dread  sentence.  '  I,' 
said  she,  '  care  not  to  sit  in  the  presence  of  Julie 
de  Joules  d'Arcy,  the  actress*  sister ! '  The 
words  were  almost  hissed  from  her  rigid  lips. 

"  I  repeated  them  after  her  ;  then,  as  I  began 
to  realize  their  meaning  I  threw  myself  forward 
upon  my  knees  at  her  feet,  and,  kissing  the  hem 
of  her  garment,  cried  : 

"  '  Is  it  true  ?  Is  my  darling  then  alive  and 
well  ?  and  has  she  succeeded  in  her  ambition  to 
become  an  actress  ?  Oh  !  I  have  often  trembled 
at  the  thought  of  hearing  of  her  lest  it  should  be 
to  hear  that  she  were  dead  ! ' 


THE  DEXOUEMEST  273 

"  She  drew  her  robe  fiercely  from  my  hand,  and 
the  terrible  look  in  her  face  commanded  me  to 
my  feet. 

" '  Girl !  Dorian  de  Joules  ! '  panted  the  woman, 
'  is  your  own  soul,  then,  naturally  so  debased,  so 
depraved,  so  devoid  of  all  womanly  instincts  that 
it  does  not  rise  up  and  smite  you  with  overwhelm- 
ing shame  because  of  your  sister's  downfall  ? 
What  were  your  parents  ?  Were  they  both  unab- 
solved  in  death  that  they  left  the  fatal  curse  of 
Satan  upon  their  progeny  ?  ' 

"  I  stood,  meeting  her  eyes  with  a  torrent  of 
wild  passion-born  words  upon  my  lips.  She  had 
roused  within  me  the  proud,  resentful,  Spanish 
blood  ;  but  it  really  seemed  that  at  that  moment 
I  could  hear  a  sound  as  of  the  beating  of  ghostly 
wings,  and  I  knew  the  spirit  of  my  sainted  mother 
was  there  to  defend  its  own.  The  thought  quieted 
me,  so  I  only  said  : 

"  '  Holy  Mother,  you  are  cruel  to  speak  so. 
My  parents  both  died  fully  confessed  and  absolved 
from  sin,  and  they  are  both  now  sainted  spirits  in 
heaven.  I  am  sure  that  my  sister  has  never  yet 
fallen  from  the  seat  of  chastity  ;  but  if  she  ever 
should  it  will  be  because  the  priest,  into  whose 
godly  keeping  my  father  committed  us  upon  his 
death-day,  gave  her  soul  in  benediction  to  the 
evil  one  ;  it  will  not  be  because  of  her  own  nat- 
ural inclination  to  fall !' 

"  She  stood  aghast  under  my  words,  trembling 


274  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

in  every  limb.  I  guessed  the  effort  it  cost  her  to 
control  her  passion. 

" '  I  did  not  come  here,'  she  said,  at  length,  '  to 
measure  words  with  one  so  wicked  and  unchaste  ; 
I  came  merely  to  advise  you,  Madamoiselle  de 
Joules,  that  a  gentleman  who  recently  visited 
the  convent  has  manifested  a  desire  to  adopt  you 
as  his  ward.  Read  this  !  So  saying,  she  placed 
in  my  hand  a  sealed  envelope,  upon  opening 
which  I  read,  like  one  in  an  enchanted  dream, 
the  few  lines,  which  were  in  a  cramped  little  hand, 
and  which  were  signed  merely  '  Albert  A.  Ross- 
more,  London,  England.' 

"  Having  seen  me  in  passing  through  the  con- 
vent he  had  been  greatly  prepossesed  with  my 
face  and  general  appearance,  and  having  been 
told,  subsequently,  by  the  Mother  Superior  of  the 
convent,  that  I  was  an  orphan,  with  but  a  trifling 
dowry,  and  no  future  protector,  he  was  anxious  to 
adopt  me  as  his  ward  [not  daughter]  and  future 
heiress.  An  Englishman  by  birth  he  was,  and 
rich  beyond  his  own  reckoning.  I  should  have 
every  advantage  that  money  could  lavish ;  I 
should  travel  over  both  continents  and  choose  a 
home  from  any  point  of  either  that  I  might  de- 
sire. Seasonable  to  my  acceptance  of  his  offer  he 
would  settle  one  thousand  pounds  upon  the  Con- 
vent of  The  ,  previous  to  my  departure 

therefrom. 

"  This  was  his  letter  in  the  abstract,  and  I  shall 


THE  DENO  UEMES  T  275 

not  attempt  to  convey  the  mad  delight  it  gave 
me.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  having  at  once  intui- 
tively guessed  Mr.  Rossmore  to  be  the  English- 
man who  had  watched  me  so  intently  the  day 
before,  and  after  accustoming  myself  to  the  real- 
ity of  the  strange  situation,  I  sent  him  a  note 
granting  an  early  interview. 

"  Two  days  later,  I  quitted  my  convent  home 
legally  adopted  as  Albert  Rossmore's  ward. 
"  Now,  to  continue  the  story  of  Julie  : 
"  The  first  thing  I  did  after  finding  myself  in 
the  free  and  dazzling  space  of  the  great  city,  was 
to  seek  out  my  sister.  It  was  not  a  difficult 
undertaking.  I  remembered  the  name  that  the 
Mother  Superior  had  applied  when  speaking  of 
her,  '  Julie  de  Joules  d'  Arcy.'  Of  course  the  latter 
was  her  stage  name.  I  looked  through  the 
Figaro  for  the  theater  announcements,  and  found 
the  beloved  name  heading  one  of  the  principal 
bills.  She  was  playing  Rosalind  in  'As  You  Like 
It/  and  the  press  comments  which  followed  under 
the  heading  were  of  the  most  enthusiastic  and 
flattering  kind.  I  took  the  paper  to  Mr.  Rossmore, 
and  after  proudly  explaining  who  Julie  d'  Arcy 
was,  expressed  a  desire  to  go  to  the  play  that 
night.  He  took  me.  We  occupied  a  box  nearest 
the  stage — so  near,  indeed,  that  I  could  have 
whispered  to  my  darling  when  she  appeared. 
Imagine,  if  you  can,  that  supreme  moment  when 
in  the  scene  with  Celia,  she  glanced  up  at  our 


276  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

box,  and,  recognizing  me  instantly,  made  a  sud- 
den, impetuous  movement  with  her  arms,  then 
paling,  like  quick  death,  recovered  herself  with  a 
masterful  effort  and  went  on  with  her  acting. 
Her  emotion  had  been  so  swift  that  I  do  not  think 
any  in  the  house  perceived  it  except  myself  and 
Mr.  Rossmore.  But  many  times  she  flashed  her 
splendid  eyes  upward  toward  our  box,  with  untold 
rapture  in  them  ;  and  when  she  cried  in  the  play 
her  tears  were  so  genuine  that  they  moved  the 
house  and  made  her  more  of  a  paragon  than  ever. 

"  Well,  the  first  act  over,  she  stole  up  to  our 
box  and  dragged  me  down  to  her  dressing-room, 
where  we  kissed  and  wept  over  each  other  as 
much  as  we  dared  for  her  safety.  Then,  while 
her  maid  dressed  her  for  the  second  act — oh  ! 
how  tall  and  grand  ;  how  brave  and  beautiful 
looked  she  in  her  disguise  as  Ganymede  ! — she 
made  me  go  back  over  the  sixteen  months  that 
had  lapsed  since  we  had  seen  each  other,  and  tell 
her  everything  that  had  happened. 

"  After  the  play  was  over,  I  went  with  her  to 

her  apartments  in  the  Rue  du  N ,  where  we 

sat  up  the  remaining  hours  of  the  night,  rejoicing 
over  our  strange  re-union.  She  went  over  her 
stage  career,  which  had  been  one  of  consecutive 
triumphs  since  she  made  her  debut,  ten  months 
previously,  as  Phebe,  the  Shepardess,  in  the  same 
play,  which  had  brought  her  Rosalind  so  many 
laurels.  She  had  an  album  filled 'with  press 


THE  DENOUEMENT  277 

trophies — numberless  lines  from  the  pens  of  love- 
lorn critics,  who  extolled  her  beauty,  her  grace 
and  rare  talent  as  an  actress  to  the  very  deities. 

"  Her  jewels,  many  of  which  were  the  tribunals 
of  peers,  were  a  fortune  in  themselves,  and  com- 
prised numerous  pieces  of  unique  and  exquisite 
workmanship.  This  bracelet  " — lovingly  touch- 
ing the  bauble  which  she  had  clasped  upon  her 
arm  while  talking,  "  was  presented  her  by  my 
guardian  about  a  month  after  our  re-union.  At 
the  same  time  I  gave  her  a  circlet,' composed  of 
eleven  diamonds  and  one  emerald.  I  had  the 
ring  made  after  an  original  fancy.  The  eleven 
diamonds  represented  the  letters  of  our  first 
names,  and  the  single  emerald  was  an  emblem  of 
destiny.  It  made  a  significant  and  a  sacred  talis- 
man, and  Julie  promised  me  that  it  should  never 
leave  her  finger  while  she  lived. 

u  I  remember  that  she  wore  the  bracelet  behind 
the  footlights  once,  then  placed  it  in  a  small  cab- 
inet-drawer among  the  rest  of  her  diamonds. 
There  was  a  separate  compartment  in  the  cabinet 
for  pearls,  and  one  also  for  miscellaneous  gems. 

"  She  always  kept  her  valuables  under  a  safety- 
lock  at  her  own  apartments,  for  which  hazardous 
practice  I  often  remonstrated  with  her  ;  but  she 
would  always  laugh  at  my  warnings,  saying  that 
if  burglars  should  break  into  her  rooms  they 
would  never  suspect  the  homely  little  metal  box. 

"  Among  my  sister's  many  suitors,  there  was 


278  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

one  whose  attentions  had  always  been  obnoxious 
to  her  ;  but  who  would  inflict  them  upon  her  on 
every  possible  occasion.  One  afternoon  when  I 
was  paying  Julie  a  visit,  his  name  was  announced, 
'Philip  Stanton.' 

"  *  I  am  not  at  home  to  any  one  this  afternoon,' 
Julie  commanded  the  servant  to  say  to  her  visitor, 
but  the  man  returned  presently  to  say  that  Mon- 
sieur insisted  upon  an  interview  ;  that  he  was  to 
leave  Paris  on  the  ensuing  day,  and  would  not 
importune  her  again  if  she  so  willed  it ;  and  so 
Julie  gave  a  reluctant  assent.  But  when  the  ser- 
vant had  gone  she  turned  to  me  with  keen  dis- 
pleasure and  something  of  fear  in  her  lovely  face, 
and  whispered  supplicatingly  : 

"  '  Dorian,  do  not  leave  me  alone  for  one  in- 
stant with  this  man.  I  fear  him  !  There  is  always 
a  look  in  his  eyes  when  they  are  fixed  upon  me 
that  makes  me  recoil  with  instinctive  dread.  My 
soul  tells  me  that  he  is  a  nefarious  person.' 

"  When  I  saw  the  man  a  moment  later,  I  was 
convinced  that  my  .sister  was  right  in  her  opinion. 
Duplicity  and  cunning  were  written  on  every  fea- 
ture of  his  face,  which  I  watched  covertly  from 
my  coin  of  vantage  in  the  alcove. 

"Monsieur  Sir  Philip,"  Dorian  hereupon  paren- 
thesised, fixing  her  strangely  brilliant  eyes  upon 
her  listener  who  was  beginning  to  show  signs  of 
restiveness,  "I  see  I  am  tiring  you;  but  I -am 


THE  DENOUEMENT  279 

now  upon  the  last  chapter  of  my  story,  and  will 
not  tax  your  patience  much  longer. 

"  Philip  Stanton  was  not  aware  of  my  pres- 
ence in  the  room,  as  the  portieres  concealed  me 
from  view.  But  every  word  of  their  interview 
reached  my  listening  ear.  I  heard  his  insolent 
appeal  for  her  hand.  I  heard  my  darling's  answer, 
which  was  calm,  decisive  and  final,  and  then  the 
man's  dreadful  threats. 

"  '  Madamoiselle  d'Arcy,'  he  said  as  he  bowed 
hknself  from  her  presence,  'you  have  not  seen 
the  last  of  me  !  Au  revoir,  until  that  moment 
comes  when  you  will  find  yourself  as  entirely  at 
my  mercy  as  a  feather  is  at  the  mercy  of  a  hurri- 
cane. That  moment  will  come  as  surely  as  you 
live,  and  that,  too,  when  you  least  expect  it.' 

"  A  few  days  subsequently  Julie's  engagement 
at  the  Paris  theatre  closed,  and  ere  booking  her- 
self for  others,  she  concluded  to  take  a  brief  vaca- 
tion, of  which  she  stood  much  in  need. 

"  Mr.  Kossmore  and  myself  had  planned  to  go 
to  Marseilles  for  a  yachting  trip  up  the  Mediter- 
ranean, and  as  my  sister  had  always  felt  an 
instinctive  dread  of  the  water,  she  declined  our 
invitation  to  accompany  us.  So  we  left  her  in 
Paris  with  a  promise  to  rejoin  her  after  a  fortnight. 
We  had  been  in  Marseilles,  however,  but  two  days, 
when  one  morning  as  we  sat  at  breakfast,  and  my 
guardian  was  running  his  eye  along  the  columns 
of  a  popular  Parisian  journal,  I  heard  a  quick, 


280  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

startled  exclamation  escape  him.  Looking  up  I 
saw  that  Mr.  Rossmore  was  as  pale  as  death  and 
trembling  with  some  emotion  which  he  seemed  to 
be  striving  to  suppress. 

"  My  eye,  in  seeking  to  discover  the  cause  of 
his  agitation,  fell  upon  the  paper  which  he  had 
hastily  thrown  aside.  Actuated  by  some  strange 
intuitive  impulse,  I  took  it;up,  whereupon  the  first 
thing  that  met  my  eye  was — was  these  words : 
'  A  Ghastly  Crime,'  with  the  underlines  running 
thus  : 

"  '  Madamoiselle  Julie  d' Arcy.  the  beautiful  and 
gifted  young  actress,  foully  murdered  while  asleep 

at  her  apartments  in  the  Rue  du  N .  All  her 

jewels  and  money  stolen.'  " 

In  quoting  the  terrible  words  'a  ghastly  pallor 
crept  over  Dorian's  face. 

For  a  moment  Sir  Philip  believed  she  was  going 
to  faint  again,  but  gradually  she  mastered  the 
dizzy  sensation  sufficiently  to  go  on  : 

"It  was  the  last  I  knew  for  weeks.  When  I 
opened  my  eyes  again  in  consciousness,  they  told 
me  I  had  been  at  death's  door  with  an  attack  of 
brain  fever.  My  first  thoughts  were  of  my  mur- 
ered  sister.  They  told  me  that  no  clue  had  yet 
been  found  of  her  assassin,  except  that  upon  the 
night  of  the  crime,  two  masked  men  had  been 

seen  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Rue  du  N , 

by  a  party  coming  out  of  a  cafe.  Later  on  a 
Frenchman,  one  M.  Alphonse  F^vraud,  was 


THE  DENOUEMENT    '  281 

arrested  on  suspicion  and  placed  in  prison,  where 
he  remained  for  nearly  a  year  awaiting  his  trial, 
and  then  was  found  not  guilty  and  acquitted. 
Meanwhile  grief  of  my  cruel  bereavement  was 
wearing  my  life  away,  and  the  physicians  advised 
my  guardian  to  take  me  away  from  the  scene  of 
my  sorrow,  so  we  at  once  set  sail  for  America. 
Eight  years  have  passed,  and  all  the  light  that 
has  ever  been  thrown  upon  the  foul  assassination 
which,  at  the  time,  filled  all  Europe  with  horror, 
is  that  which  to-night  falls  from  these  diamonds, 
and  that  is  no  better  than  the  light  of  an  eclipsed 
planet — it  reveals  nothing,  and  yet  it  brings  my 
sorrow  back  to  me  vividly — vividly  as  though  it 
were  only  yesterday  that  I  suffered  the  cruel 
agonies  !  " 

There  followed  a  heavy  pause,  during  which 
the  woman's  long  pent-up  tears  fell  unrestrainedly. 
After  what  seemed  an  age  to  Sir  Philip,  she  lifted 
her  wet  face,  and,  looking  at  him  through  a 
blurring  mist,  said  almost  bluntly  : 

"Please  leave  me  now,  Monsieur.  I  shall 
return  to  Boston  to-morrow,  and  have  yet  my 
packing  to  attend  to." 

He  rose  and  stood  looking  down  upon  the 
ruined  idol  of  his  dreams. 

"You  will  not  drive  me  from  you,  my  poor 
Dorian,  before  I  have  expressed  my  sym " 

She  stayed  him  with  a  scornful  sweep  of  her 
hand. 


282  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

"  A  man,"  said  she,  "is  more  the  real  man  who 
does  not  attempt  to  measure  sympathy  with  trite 
words.  Moreover,  if  you  were  eloquent  as  De- 
mosthenes, your  language  would  fall  flat  when 
brought  to  bear  upon  such  a  grief  as  mine — and 
you,  Sir  Philip — pardon,  Monsieur — were  never 
eloquent — scarce  a  passable  linguist,  you  know. 
Now,  au  revoir  !  Yet,  stay — if  by  any  possible 
chance  you  should  run  against  Fred  Bentwell 
again  to-night,  just  kindly  explain,  will  you,  that 
I  am  anxious  for  a  speedy  reconciliation  ?  I  do 
not  want  him  to  disgrace  himself  by  getting  on  a 
regular  debauch.  They  would  hear  of  it  in 
Boston,  and  calumny  clings  to  one,  you  know, 
like  the  stain  on  a  murderer's  hands.'' 

With  these  words  and  another  empty  au  revoir, 
she  dismissed  him. 

Some  one  remarked  Sir  Philip's  face  as  he 
passed  through  the  foyer  of  the  hotel  on  his  way 
out,  and  that  person  observed  to  himself:  "  It  is 
like  the  face  of  King  Richard  the  Third,  after 
awakening  from  his  ghost-dream  !  " 

As  he  passed  on  down  the  almost  deserted 
thoroughfare,  Sir  Philip  muttered  to  himself :  "I, 
too,  shall  return  to  Boston  to-morrow  from  where 
I  shall  proceed  at  once  to  Maplehurst,  where  my 
French  spy  must  by  this  time  be  well  prepared 
for  a  cold  dip  in  the  Merrimac  I — Then— then 
for  a  weapon  against  her  /" 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

MIDNIGHT   MASS 

'Twas  whispered  in  heaven,  'twas  muttered  In  hell, 
And  echo  caught  faintly  the  sound  as  it  fell. 
On  the  confines  of  earth  'twas  permitted  to  rest, 
And  the  depths  of  the  ocean  its  presence  confessed. 

-Catherine  M.  Fanshawe. 

WHEN  Sir  Philip's  footsteps  had  receded 
down  the  corridor,  Dorian  sprang  toward 
the  door  and  locked  it  securely. 

As  she  turned  back  into  the  solitude  of  the 
rooms,  her  eyes  glittered  wildly,  and  she  pressed 
both  hands  to  her  temples  to  stay  the  hot  blood 
that  was  surging  and  throbbing  there,  threaten- 
ing to  drive  her  mad. 

She  murmured  some  inarticulate,  passionate 
words  as  she  swept  rapidly  up  and  down  the 
spacious  rooms,  her  velvet  train  twisting  and 
coiling  itself  behind  her,  like  a  huge  serpent,  her 
chest  heaving  tumultuously,  her  face  no  longer 
pale,  but  flushed  with  the  conflicting  emotions 
that  were  raging  within  her  bosom. 

Presently  she  paused  near   the  center  of  the 

room,  and,  with  her  hand  clasped  tightly  over  the 

diamond  bracelet  on  her  arm,  and  her  burning 

eyes  uplifted  toward  the  ceiling,  she  commenced 

(283) 


284  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

speaking  in  a  calmei  voice,  as  if  in  communion 
with  a  visible  spirit : 

"  At  last,  my  beautiful,  white- winged  dove,  there 
is  light  shining  through  the  age-long  night !  At 
last  I  stand  on  a  pinnacle  of  truths  from  which  I 
view  thy  brute-murderer  through  his  foul  dis- 
guise !  Oh,  Julie  !  could  I  but  span  the  abys- 
mal space  of  ocean  which  this  night  divides  us> 
and  go  and  lay  my  hand  upon  the  cold  stone 
that  guards  thy  form  in  its  sepulchre,  it  seems  to 
me  my  triumphant  touch  would  sunder  wide  the 
marble,  and  thou  wouldst  walk  forth  in  thy  white 
shroud  to  exult  with  me,  and  to  head  the  proces- 
sion that  soon — ah,  soon! — my  sainted  sister,  will 
march  to  the  execution  of  thy  vile  assassinator  ! 
Soon,  soon  will  the  whole  of  Europe  shout  in  a 
joyous  exultation  at  his  death  !  Hark  !  Even 
now  methinks  I  can  hear  the  bells  of  Paris  clam- 
oring a  jubilant  accompaniment  to  their  song — 
Ah!" — she  paused  suddenly,  and  drawing  a  long 
breath,  as  of  ecstasy,  leaned  forward  in  a  listening 
attitude. 

"I  was  mistaken,"  she  went  on  presently,  as  if 
still  in  communion  with  the  dead.  "  Tis  but  the 
cathedral  bells  sounding  twelve.  It  is  the  signal 
for  midnight,  Christmas  mass." 

She  crossed  over  to  the  window,  and  parting 
the  heavy  silken  draperies,  looked  down  on  the 
avenue  where  a  few  late  pedestrians  were  hurry- 
ing through  the  driving  eleet. 


MIDNIGHT  MASS  285 

,  "  It  storms,"  she  observed  to  herself  in  some 
surprise,  for  when  they  had  returned  from  the 
restaurant,  two  hours  previously,  there  had  been  a 
weight  of  icy  dampness  in  the  air,  but  no  sleet 
nor  wind.  The  storm  had  come  on  suddenly. 

She  turned  shivering  from  the  window  and, 
with  a  look  of  resolution  on  her  face,  rang  for  a 
cab. 

A  few  moments  later,  enveloped  in  a  long  black 
circular,  and  closely  veiled,  she  left  the  hotel  and 
entered  the  coupe  in  waiting  at  the  curb. 

"To  the  Roman  Catholic  Cathedral,"  was  the 
order  given  to  the  driver,  and  the  next  moment 
she  was  being  whirled  over  the  cobblestones  in 
the  direction  of  that  sacred  edifice. 

During  that  brief,  cheerless  drive,  she  was 
thinking  of  her  past  intimacy  with  Sir  Philip 
Camden,  whose  touch  she  still  seemed  to  feel  con- 
taminating her,  like  that  of  a  serpent. 

"  Heavens  !  The  thought  that  his  lips  have 
often  been  pressed  upon  my  hands;  that  his  blood- 
stained hands  have  fondled  my  hair  ;  that  his 
vile  arms  have  rested  about  my  waist !  Ugh  ! " 

She  shuddered  and  flung  open  the  cab-door, 
letting  the  cold  night  wind,  with  its  accompany- 
ing sleet,  blow  in  upon  her. 

It  seemed  at  that  moment  the  only  thought 
that  kept  her  from  going  stark  mad  was  that  her 
intimacy  with  Sir  Philip  had  been  on  her  part  but 
a  subterfuge. 


286  TEE  BRIDE  OF  WFELICS 

From  the  very  day  that  she  was  introduced  to 
the  man  she  had  experienced  an  instinctive  dis- 
like of  him  ;  later  she  had  brought  herself  to 
endure  him,  nay,  to  even  talk  and  coquette  with 
him  in  the  frivolous,  unmeaning  way  that  she 
coquetted  with  scores  of  others.  But  from  that 
moment  when  he  had  placed  the  talisman  upon 
her  hand,  she  felt  her  aversion  of  him  return  with 
redoubled  force.  From  that  moment  she  began 
to  suspect  him  of  duplicity.  That  he  was  in  some 
manner  associated  with  the  dark  mystery  which 
for  years  had  shrouded  the  tomb  of  her  sister  she 
had  believed  as  firmly  as  she  believed  in  the  stars 
of  heaven  ;  and  in  order  to  penetrate  into  his  past 
life  and  search  there  for  a  key  that  might  unlock 
and  open  the  iron  door  at  which  the  law  had  so 
long  been  knocking  in  vain,  she  had  forced  her- 
self to  submit  to  his  almost  constant  companion- ' 
ship,  and  had  even  feigned  some  reciprocation  of 
his  sentiments  toward  her,  encouraging  him  to 
believe  that  she  would  succeed  to  the  position  in 
his  life  which  Lady  Hortense  had  filled  so  unsat- 
isfactorily. 

But  all  at  once  her  fictitious  rSle  had  become 
insupportable,  and  she  had  resolved  to  abandon 
it,  even  at  the  sacrifice  of  that  "key  "  which  she 
had  so  ambitiously  hoped  to  find  among  those 
rotten  leaves  that  Sir  Philip  so  zealously  sat  upon 
and  guarded. 

At  that  last  critical   moment,  however,  when 


MIDNIGHT  MASS  287 

she  had  receded  but  a  step  from  her  purpose,  she 
had  looked  back  and  beheld,  shining  there,  the 
monstrous  revelation  !  At  the  same  instant  she 
had  seemed  to  feel  a  pair  of  soft  arms  close  about 
her,  and  to  hear  an  exultant  voice  whisper  : 

"  That  is  Philip  Stanton  !  I  cut  the  scar  upon 
his  lip  with  my  ring — your  talisman — in  striving 
to  defend  myself  against  his  uplifted  dagger." 

It  was  true  !  All  at  once  Dorian  had  recog- 
nized the  evil  face  before  her  as  that  of  the  man 
whom  her  sister  had  rejected,  and  who  had  so 
malevolently  threatened  her.  The  disfiguring 
scar,  together  with  the  intervening  years  of 
reckless  adventure,  had  changed  it  almost 
beyond  recognition  ;  while  yet  to  add  to  this  dis- 
guise his  physique,  which  had  then  been  slight, 
had  grown  corpulent  and  robust. 

A  shiver  ran  through  Dorian's  frame  as  she 
recalled  those  warning  words.  They  had  been 
uttered  in  the  same  dear,  familiar  tone  that  she 
last  heard  sounding  in  life  as  Julie  kissed  her  in 
farewell  at  the  station  in  Paris  nine  years  previ- 
ously :  ll  Au  revoir,  chere  soeur  !  In  a  fortnight, 
then  I  shall  be  looking  for  you  back." 

After  the  ghostly  whispered  words  and  the  giv- 
ing way  of  tkat  cold  clasp  about  her  neck,  Dorian 
had  heard  a  swift-rushing  sound,  as  of  vanishing 
wings.  Then  she  had  remembered  no  more  until 
she  heard  Sir  Philip's  voice  saying  : 

"  My  poor  Dorian  ! " 


288  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

Oh!  the  horrible  sensation  which  at  that 
instant  she  had  experienced  as  she  thrust  him 
from  her,  realizing  herself  in  the  presence  of  her 
sister's  murderer,  could  not  be  described  !  and 
afterwards,  how  she  had  struggled  for  outward 
calm,  that  he  might  not  read  all  that  was  going 
on  within  her  triumphant  woman's  soul,  even 
forcing  herself  to  tell  the  long  story  of  poor  Julie's 
life  !  Oh,  it  was  terrible  ! 

She  thought  back  upon  that  age-long  hour, 
during  which  she  had  talked  to  him  with  such 
seeming  complacency,  and  wondered  how  she 
had  restrained  herself  from  hurling  her  revenge- 
ful tigress-  self  forward  and  burying  the  stiletto, 
which  she  always  carried  secreted  in  her  bosom, 
after  the  custom  of  her  mother's  race,  up  to  its 
jeweled  hilt  in  his  black,  basilisk  heart. 

"  But  I  am  glad  I  did  restrain  myself,"  she 
said,  as  she  looked  out  on  the  thoroughfare  whose 
desolation  the  electric  lights,  hanging  pale  and 
high  in  the  dense  atmosphere,  seemed  only  to 
intensify.  "  I,"  she  added,  u  would  prefer  to  see 
the  expression  of  his  face  when  the  law  lays 
hands  upon  him,  which  will  be  the  moment  he 
arrives  in  Boston." 

They  were  now  in  sight  of  the  Roman  Catholic 
Cathedral.  Dorian  looked  toward  the  church 
and  saw  dim  lights  shining  from  the  stained  glass 
windows.  She  had  been  filled  with  a  sudden 
longing  to  enter  that  sanctuary  and  kneel  before 


MIDNIGHT  XASS  289 

the  Holy  Virgin  in  humble  thanksgiving,  for 
surely  she  had  cause  to  feel  both  humbleness  and 
gratitude  on  this  dying  Christmas  night. 

"  I  will  be  absent  only  for  a  little  space  of 
time,"  she  said  to  the  driver  as  she  alighted  from 
the  equipage  ;  and  a  few  moments  later  she  was 
kneeling  before  one  of  the  brightly  lighted  and 
inflorescent  altars  in  the  church. 

Very  humble  indeed  looked  the  beautiful  Creole, 
Dorian,  with  hands  crossed  on  her  breast  over  her 
dark  cloak,  her  head  bowed  upon  the  chancel  rail, 
her  lips  moving  in  hurried  words  of  prayer,  the 
fervor  of  which  was  betokened  by  the  glittering 
drops  that  fell  thick  and  fast  upon  the  carpet 
from  her  eyes. 

When  she  rose  at  length,  and  drew  the  thick 
veil  over  her  face  to  depart,  her  features  shone  as 
if  illumined  by  a  benediction;  and  as  she  walked 
slowly  down  the  long  aisle  of  the  hallowed  place 
the  song  of  the  choristers  floated  to  her.  They 
were  singing  "  The  Herald  of  the  Angels." 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

THE   MIDNIGHT    BELL 

Btand  still,  my  soul,  in  the  silent  dark 

I  would  question  thee, 
Alone  in  the  shadow  drear  and  stark 

With  God  and  me! 

What,  my  soul,  was  thy  errand  hereT 

Was  it  mirth  or  ease, 
Or  heaping  up  dust  from  year  to  year? 

'Nay,  none  of  these!' 

—  Whittier— "  My  Soul  and  I." 

AN  opalescent  glow  shone  upon  the  white  hills 
and  lowlands,  making  the  former  look  like 
pinnacles  of  precious  stones,  when  Lady  Hortense 
and  her  maid  reached  Maplehurst. 

The  castle,  with  its  broad,  dark,  stone-shafted 
casements,  its  snow-wreathed  towers  and  silvered 
spires,  looked  not  less  solemnly  grand  on  this  late 
December  evening  than  some  venerable  fortress 
prison.  Yet,  as  she  came  in  sight  of  those  som- 
bre walls,  albeit  she  confessed  to  herself  that  she 
had  never  experienced  anything  of  happiness 
within  them,  something  of  peace  and  restfulness 
fell  athwart  the  tired  out  soul  of  Lady  Camden, 
while  a  flash  of  the  old  light  that  had  in  by-gone 
days  illumined  the  beauty  of  her  face,  leaped  into 
life  as  they  passed  through  the  outer  gates  and 
(290)  • 


THE  MIDNIGHT  BELL  291 

over  the  snow-embedded  courtyard  toward  the 
massive  Gothic  entrance  to  the  castle. 

When  a  few  yards  from  the  closed  portals  she 
paused  to  listen  a  moment  to  the  uproarious  voice 
of  waters  rushing  below  the  terrace  wall. 

"  Anine,"  said  she,  "  the  river  must  have  swol- 
len much  during  our  absence,  but  as  yet  it  is  not 
frozen.  Listen  !  do  not  the  waters  make  a  mighty 
rushing  sound  ?  " 

"Yes,  miladi,  but  I  like  not  to  hear  them," 
answered  the  girl  with  an  involuntary  shiver.  "  I 
have  never  liked  to  hear  the  sound  of  the  river 
since  the — since — since  I  first  came  to  Maple- 
hurst."  She  had  been  on  the  eve  of  saying 
"  since  the  time  that  I  first  heard  you  murmur 
in  your  sleep  something  about  blood-dyed  waters," 
but  she  checked  the  words  by  a  sudden  impulse,, 
and  her  mistress  in  her  pre -occupation  failed  to 
notice  the  incoherency  with  which  she  had  sub- 
stituted the  others. 

Old  Ephriam,  the  guard  whom  Sir  Philip  had 
left  on  the  premises,  had  been  drowsing  away  the 
winter  afternoon  in  the  stable  loft,  and  so  had 
failed  to  hear  the  brisk  trotting  of  horses'  hoofs 
on  the  hard  snow,  accompanied  by  the  tinkling 
of  sleigh  bells  ;  hence  the  two  women  approached 
the  house  uninterrupted  and  entered  by  means  of 
Lady  Hortense's  key. 

They  passed  through  the  dark  halls  in  which 
reigned  a  deathlike  stillness  and  ascended  at  once 


292  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

to  the  Louis  Quinze  apartments,  having  gained 
which  Anine  ensconced  her  mistress  among  a  pile 
of  rugs  on  the  lounge,  strictly  enjoining  her  not 
to  remove  even  so  much  as  a  glove  until  she  had 
kindled  a  fire  ;  for  the  rooms  were  cold  as  a  tomb. 
But  ere  long  all  the  delicate  gold  and  white  appoint- 
ments therein  were  made  the  play-grounds  for 
ruddy  flame-beams,  and  as  the  warmth  increased, 
my  lady  was  permitted  gradually  to  divest  her- 
self of  shawls  and  sables,  and  at  length  she  stood 
at  her  favorite  post  in  the  deep  window-place 
watching  the  last  opal  wreaths  of  the  sunset 
vanish  under  the  stars. 

Below,  on  one  side  rushed  the  dark  river  with 
surface  seething  and  foam-flecked,  with  voice 
thunderous  and  never  still ;  while  on  the  other 
side  stretched  the  white  esplanade  peopled  with 
spirit-birch  and  maple  trees,  and  looking  withal 
like  a  beleaguered  acre. 

There  was  nothing  cheerful  in  that  wintry 
twilight  picture — you  or  I,  methinks,  would  have 
drawn  the  curtains  over  it  and  turned  us  to  the 
glowing  grate  instead.  But  Lady  Hortense  loved 
to  gaze  upon  it — after  the  ceaseless  rattle  and 
glare  of  the  city  the  river's  voice  was  as  a  lullaby 
to  her  soul,  the  empty  whiteness  of  the  landscape 
was  as  balm.  It  was  not  until  her  maid 
announced  that  tea  was  served  that  she  turned 
from  the  scene. 

"Ah!   Anine,  you  are  worth  your  weight  in 


THE  XllMGET  BELL  293 

pure  gold  ! "  exclaimed  Lady  Camden,  as  her 
glance  fell  upon  the  daintily  spread  little  table. 
"  I  had  not  considered  the  need  of  food  during  our 
brief  stay  here,"  she  added,  smiling  at  her  own 
short-sightedness. 

Anine  had  thoughtfully  provided  a  loaf,  some 
freshly-dairied  butter,  besides  many  other  dainty 
little  edibles  which  she  thought  her  young  mis- 
tress would  enjoy,  and  which,  with  a  cup  of 
fragrant  tea,  made  up  a  most  delightful  repast; 
but  one,  to  her  disappointment,  that  Lady  Hor- 
tense  found  herself  unable  to  taste.  In  vain  did 
Anine  sit  tearfully  by,  entreating  her  to  "just  try 
a  bit  of  cold  chicken-wing."  No,  she  could  only 
drink  the  tea. 

"Remember,  Anine,"  she  kept  repeating,  "we 
lunched  very  late,"  at  which  the  French  girl  only 
shook  her  head  aggrieved,  saying,  "  Oh,  miladi, 
you  ate  nothing,  nothing!"  and  her  dejection 
robbed  her  of  her  own  healthful  appetite.  As  she 
cleared  away  the  tea  things  her  mistress  rose  and 
again  walked  over  to  the  window  place,  and 
Anine  followed  her  presently,  wheeling  a  low 
fauteuil  which  she  placed  for  her  close  up  to  the 
uncurtained  pane,  and  thus  commanded  a  full 
view  of  the  winter's  landscape. 

The  transformation  which  had  suddenly  been 
wrought  upon  the  early  night,  made  Lady 
Camden  clasp  her  hands  in  silent  ecstacy. 

A  fu1!  moon  was  rising,  it  seemed  to  her,  out  of 


294  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

the  very  abyss  of  waters,  and  sent  a  red  reful- 
gence over  the  broad  aqua-acre,  making  it  look 
like  an  expanse  of  seething  silver.  In  the  pale, 
translucent  light  the  birch  and  maple  trees 
seemed  to  beckon  at  each  other  with  their 
phantom  arms,  while  out  beyond  the  white,  far- 
reaching  plain,  where  the  hills  raised  their  undu- 
lating brows  against  the  horizon,  there  floated  a 
gauze  like  transparency,  which  glittered  like  the 
quivering  fall  of  myriad  diamonds. 

No  wonder  Lady  Hortense  sighed  again  and 
again  as  she  sat  there  in  rapt  contemplation  of 
the  beautiful  spectacle,  and  those  words  of 
Southey  which  rose  to  her  lips  and  which  she 
repeated  half  aloud,  were  very  appropriately 
applied  to  it : 

No  mist  obscures,  no  cloud,  nor  speck  nor  stain 

Breaks  the  serene  of  heaven; 
In  full-orbed  glory  yonder  moon  divine 

Reels  through  the  dark-blue  depths. 
Beneath  her  steady  ray 

The  desert-circle  spreads, 
Like  the  round  ocean  girdled  with  the  sky. 

One  hour  passed  and  yet  another  ;  still  she 
sat  motionless,  with  her  white  hands  clasped 
upon  her  lap,  gazing  forth  and  thinking  in  tearless 
silence — in  silence  communing  with  her  soul : 

What  daunts  thee  now  ?    What  shakes  thee  so  ? 
My  sad  soul ;  say. 

"Death?  I  am  very  young— I  am  only  twenty. 
Is  not  that  very  young  to  die,  O  soul  of  mine  ? 
0  stars!  0  tender  moon!  Once  as  I  gazed 


TIIE  MIDNIGHT  BELL  295 

upward  at  thy  serenity,  my  heart  was  glad,  and 
light  and  young,  and  shared  all  that  was  most 
beautiful  and  sublime  in  life  !  how  long  ago  was 
that  that  my  soul  tells  me  now  I  must  die  f  I 
must  have  wandered  further  than  I  thought  into 
benighted  space,  and  away  from  thy  shining  love 
— it  must  be  years  since  my  life  became  so  cold 
and  dark  and  barren  of  all  that  used  to  make  it 
glad — I  must  be  old — very  old  now  !  My  soul 
tells  me  I  am  near  the  valley  of  the  shadow — oh, 
it  is  still  there — profoundly  still  and  cold  !  Yet  I 
— I  do  not  feel  afraid,  for  God  is  there  !  Ah,  soul 
of  mine — 

What  to  thee  is  shadow,  to  Him  is  day, 

And  the  end.  he  knoweth, 
And  not  oil  a  blind  and  aimless  way 

Thy  spirit  goeth. 

It  is  better  as  it  is — better,  a  thousand  times 
better  to  die  in  His  all-merciful  love,  than  to  live 
and  offend  him  by  my  iniquitous  loving.  Far, 
far  better  than  that,  dearest  Alice,  will  be  a  low 
grave,  over  which  you  and  he,  my  idol — (I  can 
call  him  my  idol  away  out  here  in  this  isolated 
spot  where  only  my  soul  and  the  archangel 
hear)  will  stand  and  hear  them  say  :  '  I  am 
the  Resurrection  and  the  Life,'  but  you  will 
never  know  the  secret  of  my  heart — it  will  be 
buried  with  me,  and  the  tears,  my  gentle  friend, 
that  may  fall  from  your  eyes  upon  my  grave, 
'  like  the  slow,  sad  dropping  of  rain,'  will  have 
naught  of  the  bitterness  in  them  which  the  knowl- 
edge of  my  story  would  have  engendered." 


290  THE  BRIDE  OE  INFELICE 

"  Miladi,  it  is  ten  o'clock,"  said  Anine,  break- 
ing  suddenly  in  upon  her  sad  reverie. 

Lady  Camden  started. 

"Good  Anine,"  said  she,  without  looking 
around.  "  I  am  sure  you  must  be  tired.  I  have 
been  so  thoughtless  !  Bring  in  your  pallet  and 
retire  at  once.  I  will  sit  up  yet  a  little  while. 
The  night  is  so  perfect  and  I  am  not  in  the  least 
sleepy." 

Anine  sighed  and  returned  to  the  ottoman, 
where  all  the  evening  she  had  sat,  reading  a  late 
Boston  journal  which  she  had  brought  with  her 
from  town. 

The  girl  believed  that  she  had  read  every 
article  of  interest  in  the  paper,  but  there  was  a 
certain  little  lyric  which  she  wished  to  clip  out 
to  send  to  le  bon  homme,  in  the  distant  Pyrenees, 
who  wrote  that  ere  long  he  was  going  to  cross  the  sea 
to  claim  his  bonne  petite  and  bear  her  as  his  bride 
back  to  France.  The  stanzas  flavored  of  the 
tenderest  sentiment,  and  as  she  eagerly  scanned 
the  columns  in  search  of  them,  her  eye  suddenly 
came  in  contact  with  a  paragraph  which  she  had 
previously  overlooked.  It  was  a  telegram  from 
London  and  was  headed  ''A  Skillful  Fraud." 
The  lines  ran  thus  : 

"  News  has  just  been  conveyed  to  the  London  police 
that  Philip  Stanton,  alias  George  Courtney,  an  English 
plebeian  and  a  notorious  scoundrel,  is  at  present  living 
at  a  magnificent  country  estate  in  America,  somewhere 
in  the  vicinity  of  Boston,  Massachusetts,  and  that  he 
circulates  his  false  person  under  a  distinguished  title. 


THE  MIDNIGHT  BELL  297 

The  report,  which  is  entirely  authentic,  we  have  every 
reason  to  believe,  says  that  Stanton  was  married  a  year 
ago  to  an  aristocratic  young  American  lady,  of  rare 
beauty  and  a  fine  bank  account,  who  has  all  these 
months  been  living  under  the  cruel  hallucination  that 
she  bears  her  title  and  the  arms  emblazoned  on  her 
carriage  by  an  undisputed  right.  The  lady  will  soon  be 
advised  of  the  true  character  of  her  husband,  and  Stan- 
ton  apprehended  and  brought  to  England,  under  whose 
laws  he  will  be  punished  for  the  score  of  criminal 
offenses  charged  against  him." 

This  is  what  poor,  dazed  Anine  read  and 
re-read  ere  she  would  believe  that  she  had  not 
dreamed  the  terrible  truth.  With  a  tearful, 
whispered  supplication  to  Heaven  to  deliver  her 
young  mistress  from  the  cruel  disgrace  that  was 
hanging  over  her,  she  crushed  the  paper  into  an 
unrecognizable  mass,  then  throwing  it  into  the 
grate  she  watched  the  flames  reduce  it  to  a  pale 
heap  of  ashes,  after  which,  with  a  set,  livid  face, 
she  again  approached  that  silent  figure  in  the 
embrasure  of  the  window. 

"  Come,  miladi,"  urged  she,  "  you  will  not  be 
able  to  return  to  the  city  to-morrow  if  you  do  not 


Lady  Hortense  made  no  reply,  but  silently 
suffered  the  girl  to  lead  her  away. 

Half  an  hour  later  the  lights  were  burning  low 
in  the  Louis  Quinze  rooms,  and  all  was  wrapped  in 
profound  solitude.  Yet  neither  of  the  inmates 
slept. 

Lady  Hortense  lay  quietly  listening  to  the 
sound  of  which  she  never  tired — that  of  the 


298  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

waters  rushing  below  the  terrace — and  striving 
to  soothe  her  restive  soul  with  thoughts  of  the 
great  happiness  that  had  overtaken  the  ones  she 
mostly  loved.  She  pictured  their  future  to  her- 
self, and  seemed  to  see  Thayer  Volney,  the  young 
nobleman,  a  rising  member  of  Parliament — he 
had  once  confided  to  her  his  great  aim,  which  was 
to  become  an  earnest  politician — and  lord  of  a 
worthy  establishment,  wherein  Alice  was  the 
beacon  light  and  the  inspiration  through  which 
his  greatest  and  noblest  purposes  attained  success 
She  saw  her  children,  with  tiny  faces  repeating 
his  own  ideal  image,  going  out  to  meet  Thayer, 
and  their  fair-haired  mother  standing  proudly  on 
the  threshold  waiting  with  happy  kisses  to 
exchange.  She  fancied  many  such  pictures  as 
this,  and  tried  to  convince  herself  that  they 
soothed  the  aching  void  in  her  heart,  and  at  last 
from  sheer  faintness,  she  fell  into  a  kind  of 
stupor  with  the  chime  of  wedding  bells  in  her 
ear.  In  her  dreams  she  was  at  the  church, 
before  her  rose  the  altar,  with  its  lovely  burden 
of  flowers — all  white,  white,  white  ;  with  inter- 
minglings  of  soft  and  shining  green.  From  the 
stained  windows  above  there  descended  the  light 
of  day,  bathing  all  in  a  tender,  hallowed  efful- 
gence, while  subtly  above  the  pervading  hush 
there  rose  those  strains  of  Lohengrin — those 
beautiful  bridal  strains,  sweet  as  though  sung  by 
a  chorus  of  angels.  "  They  are  coming  now 


THE  MIDNIGHT  BELL  299 

—the  bridal  train  !  See  !  They  enter  !  They 
pass  up  the  long  aisle  toward  the  white, 
white  chancel.  She  with  her  beautiful,  radiant 
face,  down  bent,  and  her  violet  eyes,  shining 
through  the  meshes  of  her  long  veil,  dim  with 
happy,  unshed  tears,  and  fixed  upon  the  cluster 
of  lilies  in  her  hand.  He,  proud,  handsome,  tall, 
erect,  his  gaze  bent  straightway  before  him,  tow- 
ard the  spot  where  they  will  presently  kneel 
together  and  make  their  solemn  vows — vows  that 
will  bind  them  until  death  !  Aye,  until,  in  and 
beyond  death  !  The  bridal  chorus  of  the  angels 
has  ceased.  All,  all  is  silent  now— only  [for  an 
instant,  however,  when  comes  the  clear  pronun- 
ciation, 'Man  and  wife.'  A  benediction,  then 
they  turn,  and  arm  in  arm  pass  slowly  from  the 
church.  The  crowd  has  followed.  I  alone  am 
left  in  the  holy  place — with  God  !  I  weep,  and 
God,  seeing  my  tears,  even  through  my  thick  veil, 
knows  they  are  shed  for  very  joy  that  they  are 
wed,  and  happy  !  I  go  up  and  kiss  the  spot 
where  his  feet  have  been — and  hers ;  and  then, 
with  a  deep  unrest  engendered  of  the  longing  to 
make  some  greater  manifestation  of  my  joy,  I 
wander — wander — wander — " 

Meanwhile,  as  Lady  Hortense  lay  in  that 
dreamful  stillness,  Anine  with  her  face  muffled 
in  the  coverlets  of  her  pallet,  sobbed  unrestrain- 
edly as  she  offered  up  earnest  supplications  in 
behalf  of  her  beloved  mistress. 


300  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

"0  mon  Dieu !  if  her  young  life  is  already 
blighted  to  the  death,  as  it  does  seem,  let  Thou 
her  grave  be  sealed  ere  falls  this  threatened  grief 
upon  her  !  She  is  so  good,  so  innocent,  so  pure, 
0  Holy  God  !  so,  if  Thou  wouldst  take  her,  take 
her  whilst  yet  her  heart  is  unfestered  by  the 
knowledge  of  her  husband's  vileness  !" 

This  was  the  prayer  Anine  repeated  again  and 
a  gain — repeated  until  with  salt  tears  dried  upon 
her  virgin  cheek,  she,  too,  sank  into  troubled 
slumber. 

She  awoke  suddenly  to  find  herself  in  a  sitting 
posture,  with  her  heart  beating  wildly  from  some 
unknown  cause. 

"  What  awakened  me  ?  "  whispered  the  dazed 
girl.'  "  No  sound  is  here,  save  that  of  the  river, 
and  the  night  winds  murmuring  by.  Perhaps — 
mon  Dieu  !  what  is  this  !  "  cried  she  as  her  eyes 
turned  toward  her  mistress'  bed,  whose  curtains 
were  tossed  aside  revealing  it  empty  I 

Bounding  to  her  feet,  the  now  terrified  girl 
almost  shrieked  : 

"Miladi!  Miladi !  " 

Only  the  echo  of  her  own  voice  came  to  her  in 
response. 

She  turned  up  the  lights  so  that  she  could  better 
search  the  rooms,  but  look  as  she  would  there  was 
no  sign  of  her  mistress  anywhere.  Her  white 
robe  de  chambre,  with  its  accompanying  silver 
girdle,  was  just  where  she  had  placed  it  when 


THE  MIDNIGHT  BELL  801 

she  had  dressed  her  mistress  for  bed,  and  the 
little  embroidered  slippers  were  in  their  usual 
place.  Nothing  was  disturbed.  As  Anine  stood 
•wringing  her  hands  and  shivering  from  head  to 
foot  in  dire  distress,  there  rushed  upon  her  a  sud- 
den thought.  Once  -or  twice  during  her  stay  at 
Maplehurst  she  had  known  Lady  Camdento  walk 
in  her  sleep.  The  thought  reassured  her.  "  Of 
course,"  thought  she,  "  I  will  find  her  in  one  of 
the  halls  or  corridors."  She  hastily  adjusted  her 
dressing  gown  and  thrust  her  bare  feet  in  slip- 
pers ;  then  taking  a  candle  she  started  forth. 
Just  as  as  she  reached  the  door,  however,  a  sound 
thrilled  through  the  house  that  riveted  her  to  the 
spot. 

It  was  the  tower  bell ! 

Three  slow  and  doleful  strokes  it  sounded,  then 
was  still. 

"That,"  whispered  the  newly  terrified  maid, 
"  is  the  noise  which  first  awakened  me  !  Can  it 
be  my  mistress  has  gone  up  to  the  belfry  ?  " 

Scarcely  crediting  the  thought,  she  moved  out 
into  the  hall,  scanned  futilely  its  rambling  space, 
and  the  corridors  leading  from  it  ;  from  one  of 
these  she  passed  up  the  narrow  flight  of  stairs, 
thence  along  a  narrow  corridor  to  the  belfry  steps. 
Ascending  these  she  stood  upon  the  threshold  and 
looked  in. 

Through  the  stained-glass  skylight  above,  the 
moonbeams  fell,  fixing  bright  patches  on  the 


302  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELIC& 

floor,  in  the  midst  of  which  there  stood  a  tall, 
slight  figure,  over  whose  sweeping,  spotless  robe 
thick  masses  of  black  hair  streamed  in  wild  aban- 
donment. Her  eyes  were  wide  open,  her  lips  half- 
parted,  her  face  uplifted  toward  the  swaying  bell, 
and  stamped  with  an  awful  vacancy.  Upreach- 
ing  were  her  hands,  as  if  about  to  grasp  the 
swaying  rope  again. 

As  Anine  stood,  afraid  to  make  a  sound  lest  it 
should  awaken  her  mistress  in  this  weird  and  ter- 
rifying place,  she  heard  her  say  : 

"  Thou  hast  chimed  twice  for  Thayer,  thrice  for 
Alice,  now  toll  one  for  the  dying." 

"  One !  " 

Oh,  that  knell  was  full  of  woe  and  prayer ! 
When  the  sound  had  quite  declined  into  the 
silence,  Lady  Camden  turned  and  started  toward 
the  door. 

Anine  now  slipped  noiselessly  down  the  steps, 
holding  the  candle  low  in  front  of  her,  that  its 
rays  might  not  attract  those  open  yet  unconscious 
eyes,  and  shrinking  against  the  wall  behind  the 
bannisters,  she  allowed  the  sleeping  woman  to 
pass  half-way  down  the  corridor  before  she  es- 
sayed to  follow  her. 

Now,  the  girl  had  been  standing,  unconsciously, 
against  the  very  aperture  in  the  wall  of  Alphonse 
Favraud's  prison. 

Imagine,  then,  if  you  can,  her  horror,  when, 
just  as  she  started  to  pursue  her  mi?tress,  she  felt 


THE  MIDNIGHT  BELL  303 

herself  being  held  back  by  some  mysterious  power. 

"Madamoiselle !"  said  a  ghastly  voice  which 
seemed  to  come  from  the  very  wall  behind  her, 
"be  not  afraid.  I  am  a  prisoner  here  and  am  in 
momentary  peril  of  death  from  starvation!  My 
hands  are  paralyzed  and  helpless  from  striving  to 
work  a  way  through  this  wall  to  freedom.  My 
body  is  numb  and  frozen.  Release  me!  For  the 
love  of  God  release  and  give  me  food,  that  I  may 
yet  live  to  revenge  myself  upon  my  would-be 
murderer  !  " 

The  voice  ceased,  and  Anine  felt  the  hand  re- 
lease its  hold  of  her. 

She  turned,  and  placing  the  candle  close  to  the 
aperture  gazed  in  upon  the  prisoner. 

Oh  !  the  sight  that  met  her  eyes  was  unspeak- 
ably frightful  !  —  the  glaring  orbs  :  the  pinched 
cadaverous  features  ;  the  long  unkempt  hair  and 
beard  !  They  made  up  a  thing  so  ghastly  that  any 
but  Anine  must  have  fled  from  it  in  wild  afright. 
But  she  had  become  accustomed  to  strange  and 
ghastly  experiences  by  this  time,  and  when  at 
length  she  spoke  to  him,  she  was  quite  self-pos- 
sessed : 

"  How  long  have  you  been  imprisoned  here  ?  " 
she  asked,  calmly. 

"  I  cannot  say,  madamoiselle.  It  has  seemed 
like  an  eternal  age  to  me,  but  since  I  first  saw  the 
light  through  this  crevice  I  have  counted  seven 
days  and  nights,"  responded  the  Frenchman. 


304  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICS 

"  Who  is  your  jailer  ?  " 

"  Who?  Peste!  Who  should  it  be  but  one  who 
styles  himself  Sir  Philip  Camden,  but  is  a  com- 
mon-blood, like  the  veriest  vagrant-hound,  and  a 
chartered  envoy  of  Satan  !  " 

"  You  are  a  Frenchman — one  of  my  own  coun- 
try. What  is  your  name  ?  "  the  girl  questioned. 

"  Favraud  is  my  name,  madamoiselle,  Alphonse 
Favraud,"  said  the  man. 

"  Alphonse  Favraud  ! ''  repeated  Anine.  "  I 
have  heard  that  name  before — Ah  !  were  you  not 
once  arrested  in  Paris,  and  tried  for  the  murder 
of  a  young  actress  named  Julie  d'Arcy  ?  " 

"  Oui,    madamoiselle,"^   the    man   responded 
promptly. 

"  Has  that  murder  case  anything  to  do  with 
your  presence  here  ?  " 

"  Oui,  petite  ami,  it  is  the  very  key  by  which  I 
entered,"  answered  Favraud,  with  smiling  com- 
placency. 

"  Was  Sir  Philip  in  any  way  implicated  in  that 
atrocious  affair  ? "  the  young  girl  questioned 
breathlessly. 

"You  will  know — the  whole  world  will  have 
heard  the  denouement  by  to-morrow  night.  Only 
give  me  food  and  drink,  also  pen,  ink  and  paper, 
that  I  may  make  a  written  statement  in  case  I 
should  die  before  I  reach  the  authorities." 

"  Only  answer  me  one  more  question  and  I  will 
serve  you.  What  is  Sir  Philip  Camden's  true 
name  ?  " 


THE  MIDNIGHT  BELL  305 

"  Stanton.  He  has  also  been  known  as  Court- 
ney— George  Courtney." 

Anine  raised  her  eyes  heavenward,  and  mut- 
tsred  something  that  the  prisoner  did  not  hear, 
tnen  saying : 

"  I  will  be  back  promptly,  monsieur,"  she  van- 
ished. 

When  she  reached  the  Louis  Quinze  rooms,  she 
found  Lady  Hortense  lying  quietly  under  the 
eiderdown  of  her  bed  with  closed  eyes  and  breath 
as  gently  woven  in  and  out  as  though  nothing 
had  happened. 

Murmuring  a  prayer  of  thankfulness  for  this, 
Anine  drew  the  curtains  closely,  turned  the  lights 
down  dim,  then  again  quitted  the  apartments 
noiselessly,  bearing  the  basket  of  cold  stores  which 
she  had  taken  from  the  tea-table  that  night,  and 
a  decanter  of  wine. 

As  she  went  upon  her  mission  of  mercy,  the 
alarm-clock  in  the  hall  below  was  tolling  the  first 
hour  of  the  new  day. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

THE   GATE   AJAR 

Dead  !  and  she  knows  to-day  what  'tis  to  ford 
The  mystic  waters  of  the  stream  so  dread; 

Perhaps  she,  too,  has  seen  the  risen  Lord 
In  Paradise,  where  dwell  the  tainted  dead. 

-a  c. 

DECEMBER  26th,  ten  o'clock  A.  M.  The  Boston 
and  Providence  east-bound  express  just  puff- 
ing out  of  the  New  York  station.     There  were  few 
passengers  in  the  drawing-room  car  this  morning 
— in  truth,  not  more  than  a  score  in  all. 

In  one  remote  corner  sat  Sir  Philip  Camden, 
ostensibly  absorbed  in  the  perusal  of  a  fresh 
morning  journal,  but  in  truth,  keeping  his  eyes 
on  a  direct  level  with  the  blank  margin  of  the 
paper,  that  he  might  stealthily  watch  the  young 
couple- who  occupied  vis  &  vis  chairs  in  the  center 
of  the  coach,  and  who  were  engaged  in  low,  earnest 
conversation  which  characterized  them  at  once  as 
lovers.  Even  through  the  thick,  closely  drawn 
veil  which  the  lady  wore  the  strikingly  beautiful 
features  of  Dorian  Rossmore  were  recognizable, 
while  her  debonnaire  companion  was  none  other 
than  her  recently  slighted,  but  now  wholly  con- 
ciliated suitor,  Fred  Bentwell. 
(306) 


THE  GATE  AJAR  307 

The  latter,  having  gone  to  his  apartments  in 
the  "  wee  sma' "  hours  of  the  morning,  had  found 
Dorian's  little  white-winged,  lavender-scented 
covenant  of  peace  awaiting  him  on  one  corner  of 
his  dressing  table.  Upon  reading  this,  he  had  at 
once  summoned  a  porter  to  pack  his  belongings, 
then  he  had  passed  the  remaining  hours,  tiJl 
dawn,  in  the  hammam  baths ;  coming  out  of 
which,  like  a  new-bloom  pansy,  he  had  made  an 
elaborate  toilet  and  was  seen  hurrying  through  the 
streets,  eoon  after  sunrise,  toward  Fifth  Avenue. 
Dorian,  who  was  up  betimes,  seasonable  to  her 
impending  journey,  welcomed  him  in  becoming 
dishabile.  They,  however,  lingered  but  briefly 
over  that  fondest  of  all  lover's  interviews  ;  for 
they  had  to  breakfast  before  train  time,  and  once 
on  the  cars  they  would  have  from  ten  o'clock 
until  four  to  couch  in  octave  clauses,  the  senti- 
ments which  they  were  now  forced  to  express 
only  by  short  staccato  kisses  and  hurried  exclam- 
ations. 

"  Curse  him  ! "  muttered  Sir  Philip  Camden 
behind  his  screen,  as  he  watched  that  intimate 
proximity  of  faces.  "  What  madness  in  Dorian 
to  squander  such  adorable  beauty  and  grace  as 
she  possesses  upon  that  consummate  sop !  But 
this  is  merely  one  of  her  periodical  caprices  ;  she 
will  tire  of  him  in  less  than  a  month,  and  her 
ambition  for  a  titled  position  will  be  duly 
revived.  But  I  hate  that  accursed  bracelet  scene! 


308  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

By  Heaven  !  I'd  give  its  price  a  hundred  times 
over  if  it  had  never  happened.  And  her  words 
about  the  stain  clinging  to  a  murderer's  hands  ! 
Could  she  have  recognized  me  as  the  lover  of 
Julie  d'  Arcy  ?  Impossible  !  " 

He  put  the  harrowing  idea  from  him  as  pre- 
posterous, and  presently  let  his  gaze  wander  from 
the  couple  far  out  to  the  sound,  upon  whose 
crested  bosom  white  yacht  masts  glistened  amid 
flaunting  flags  of  every  nationality,  and  where 
circling  seagulls  played  and  dove  in  wintry  glee  ; 
and,  while  for  a  time  he  remained  lost  in  dark 
meditations,  which  shut  out  even  all  thoughts  of 
Dorian  and  his  young  rival,  not  once  was  the 
demon  within  him  shaken,  or  in  any  manner 
awed. 

'  "  Wherefor  should  I  tremble  ?  "  he  asked  him- 
self in  his  self-conscious  criminality.  "I  have 
escaped  the  law  all  these  years  ;  and,  ere  this, 
Alphonse  Favraud's  lips  are  sealed  in  death. 
After  the  river  has  buried  him,  or  its  current 
borne  him  to  the  sea,  what  will  there  be  to  fear  ? 
No  other  power  on  earth  could  convict  me  !  and 
in  the  end — oh  curse  the  end  !  Life  is  only  one 
long  lie,  anyway ;  and  humanity  is  doomed  to 
one  ultimate  and  impartial  fate — the  grave,  then 
rot !  Ha  !  ha  !  what  matters  it  whether  a  man's 
record  be  white  or  black  ?  " 

This,  then,  was  his  creed;  and  with  such  to  blind 
him,  to  damn  his  soul  forever  anvi  forever,  he 


THE  QATE  AJAR  309 

was   hurrying   straightway  toward   his  horrible 
doom. 

Ob,  Destiny  !  thou  art  a  grim  and  merciless  avenger. 

The  betrothals  of  Alice  Meredith  and  Valois 
Elwood — those  two  sweet  characters  whom  we 
have  followed  through  a  brief  space  of  their  lives, 
but  from  whom  the  current  of  events  has  separ- 
ated us  for  a  time,  were  celebrated  in  a  quiet,  but 
withal,  appropriate  manner ;  and,  albeit,  there 
were  scores  of  newly  betrothed  couples  in  Boston 
on  the  26th  of  December,  18 — ,  their's  were,  by 
far,  the  happiest  hearts  among  them — at  least  so 
Valois  had  shyly  lisped  in  the  ear  of  her  soldier 
lover,  when  he  called  at  ten  o'clock  ;  and  as  Alice 
stood  among  the  blossoming  exotics  in  the  window 
about  that  same  hour,  her  soulful  eyes  fixed  upon 
a  tall,  athletic  young  man  who  was  walking 
swiftly  up  the  avenue  toward  the  brown-stone 
house,  the  worshipful  light  in  them  must  have 
drawn  him  the  faster  to  her,  as  a  magnet  draws  a 
needle  when  within  range,  fof  when  Thayer 
approached  nearer,  lie  looked  up  and  saw  her, 
and — shall  I  tell  you  what  he  then  did  ?  You 
might  think  my  "  Modern  Glaucus  "  had  grown 
to  be  quite  commonplace  if  I  should  ;  but  I  am 
sure  that  when  you  pause  to  consider  that  actions 
born  of  such  holy  love  as  was  his,  are  like  an^old- 
fashioned  song,  ever  new  and  beautiful  to  the 
sympathetic  soul,  you  will  only  say,  "  Wasn't  he 
sweet,  and  just  like  a  fond  young  lover  ?"  Well, 


310  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

then  placing  his  hands  to  his  lips,  he  wafted  hia 
sweetheart  kisses  one,  two,  three  !  and  she,  with 
infinite  rapture  in  her  fair  face,  returned  them 
with  the  same  impetuous  gestures  that  he  himself 
had  used  ;  and  then,  as  if  moved  by  a  sudden 
impulse,  she  rushed  to  the  end  of  the  room  where 
the  piano  stood  open,  and  began  to  sing: — 

My  heart,  my  heart  is  like  a  singing  bird, 

Whose  nest  is  in  a  watered  shoot. 
My  heart,  my  heart  is  like  an  apple  tree, 

Whose  boughs  are  bent  with  thick-set  fruit. 
My  heart,  my  heart  is  like  a  rainbow  shell, 

That  paddles  in  a  halcyon  sea. 
My  heart,  my  heart  is  gladder  than  all  these, 

Because  my  love,  my  love  hath  come  to  me  1 

"Alice!  Darling!" 

She  had  heard  him  enter  and  knew  that  he 
stood  behind  her  as  she  sang  the  two  last  lines  ; 
so  when  the  sound  of  her  sweet,  glad  voice  had 
died  away,  and  his  followed  close  upon  it,  in  the 
two  joyful — unutterably  joyful  exclamations,  she 
put  up  her  arms  and  clasping  them  of  her  own 
spontaneous  will.. about  his  neck,  she  whispered: 
"  My  love  !  My  Robin  St.  Cloud !  My  King 
Cophetua  !  "  A  long,  rapturous  kiss,  and  then — 
ah  the  dreams  of  their  two  young  hearts  as  the 
lovers  sat,  wrapped  in  the  benediction  of  the  sun- 
light, were  such  as  human,  waking  hearts  seldom 
experience,  and  such  as  no  earthly  words  can 
give  appropriate  shape  to. 

Alice  had  had  her  sorrows,  but  their  seat  was 
now  usurped  by  love,  who 


THE  GATE  AJAR  311 

Took  up  the  harp  of  life,  and 
Smote  on  all  the  chords  with  might. 

There  was  nothing  awaiting  her  in  the  vista  of 
years  ahead  save  that  essence  of  divine  felicity 
which  such  heaven-ordained  love  as  she  had  won 
engenders,  and  which  she  reciprocated  share  for 
share. 

Out  beyond  the  great  Atlantic  they  would  go 
ere  long,  and  the  years,  breaking  in  like  a  succes- 
sion of  bright,  sunlit  waves  upon  their  life,  would 
find  them  realizing  the  dreams  that  Hortense,  the 
poor,  isolated  and  doomed  "  Bride  of  Infelice," 
had  predicted  for  them.  No  young  couple  among 
the  British  aristocracy  would  be  more  popular, 
more  loved  and  courted  than  Sir  Thayer  Volney, 
and  the  beautiful  Lady  Alice.  The  latter  would 
be  idolized  among  her  tenants  and  dependent 
poor,  as  well  as  by  the  political  world  in  which 
her  husband  would  prove  an  indefatigable  worker 
and  a  luminous  light,  of  whose  noble  interests 
and  traditions  her  sister's  books  would  breathe 
chapters  in  unbridled  eloquence,  winning  for  her 
name,  fame  and  many  golden  laurels  which  she 
would  proudly  hand  down  to  her  progeny,  but 
which  she  would  never  prize  so  dear  by  half  as 
the  love  with  which  God  had  ordained  that  a 
certain  young  and  chivalrous  nobleman  should 
crown  her  to  the  happy  end. 

Somewhere  on  the  Boston  and  Providence  line, 
between  Bridgeport  and  New  London  a  disastrous 


312  THE  BRIDE  OF  IK  FELICE 

railway  collision  had  occurred  in  which  the  east 
bound  express  train  was  wrecked. 

Out  beyond  that  heap  of  smoking  and  charred 
debris  among  a  scattered  mass  of  wounded  dead 
and  dying  humanity,  Sir  Philip  Camden  lay 
stretched  motionless  upon  the  snow,  his  life- 
breath  ebbing  from  him  in  quick,  convulsive 
throes. 

He  had  not  spoken  once  since  they  had  taken 
him,  all  crushed  and  mangled,  from  the  ruins  ; 
and  so  hopeless,  indeed,  was  his  condition  that 
the  doctors  after  a  brief  analysis  of  it  passed  on, 
knowing  that  all  attempts  to  revive  him  would  be 
futile. 

Sir  Philip  Camden  was  dying. 

What  need  now  had  earthly  authorities  of  the 
confessions  of  Dorian  Rossmore  and  AlphonseFav- 
raud  ?  Though  he  had  been  the  perpetrator  of  many 
dark  and  undivulged  crimes,  what  need  now  of 
France,  England  or  America's  laws  of  punishment 
in  his  name  ?  The  eoul  of  this  accomplished 
criminal  was  passing  into  the  precincts  of  the 
High  Court  of  Justice,  the  voice  of  whose  throned 
King  has  been,  is  now  and  shall  forever  be  heard 
proclaiming :  "  Vengeance  is  Mine  and  I  will 
repay ! " 

Julie  d'Arcy's  assassin  was  about  to  witness 
the  book  whose  pages  held  the  dark  secrets  of  his 
life,  closed  and  sealed  forever.  So  must  it  lie. 
To  investigate  such  a  record  would  lg  futile,  for 


THE  QATE  AJAR  313 

nothing  is  there  that  would  gratify — nothing  but 
what  would  produce  horror  and  useless  censure, 
hatred  and  bitter  vexation. 

A  relief  train  had  been  despatched  to  the  scene 
of  disaster,  and  ere  long  Mrs.  Rossmore  and  Fred 
Bentwell,  who  had  both  come  out  of  the  disas- 
trous wreck  miraculously  unscathed,  were  among 
the  passengers  on  their  continued  way  to  Boston. 

They  reached  the  city  shortly  after  nine  o'clock 
when  Dorian,  eager  to  convey  to  Mrs.  Ayers  the 
intelligence  of  her  son-in-law's  precarious  condi- 
tion— a  condition  in  which  she,  Dorian,  exulted 
with  a  vehemence  that  at  times  almost  terrified 
her — went  at  once  to  her  establishment  where  she 
found  Hortense  Camden's  mother  in  a  wild  state 
of  hysteria,  caused  by  the  report  of  the  railway 
disaster  which  she  had  already  seen  by  the  latest 
edition  of  the  evening  papers.  Among  the  names 
of  the  dead  victims  she  had  read  that  of  her  son- 
in-law,  Sir  Philip  Camden. 

"  Qh,  my  wicked,  wicked  Hortense  ! "  cried  the 
frantic  lady.  "  She  it  was  who  sent  him  to  his 
untimely  doom !  Had  she  been  other  than  the 
cold,  unloving,  skeptical  wife  toward  him  that 
phe  has  always  been,  he  would  never  have  gone 
to  New  York.  She  has  been  his  evil  destiny!  She 
has  been  all  but  the  proud,  loving  and  grateful 
wife  she  should  have  been — she  has  been  his 
Doom  ! " 

"  But,  my  dear  Mrs.  Ayers,  think  how  much 


314  THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 

worse  it  might  have  been.  It  is  not  as  though 
he  had  left  his  widow  penniless  upon  your  bounty 
He  has  left  her  the  magnificent  estate  of  Maple- 
hurst.  She  will  still  be  Lady  Camden,  and  you 
doubtless  will  live  with  her  at  the  castle,"  sooth- 
ingly and  generously  reasoned  Dorian. 

"  Oh,  hush — hush  !  "  sobbed  Mrs.  Ayers  as  she 
applied  a  fresh  solution  of  eau  de  cologne  to  her 
swollen  and  much  disfigured  face.  "  My  daugh- 
ter can  never  be  reconciled  to  me — never  !  All 
the  mother-love  that  I  once  felt  for  her  is  cold 
and  dead  within  me.  She  has  deliberately  killed 
it  with  obdurate  self-will  and  ingratitude." 

"  Has  Lady  Hortense  yet  heard  of  her  husband's 
death  ?  "  asked  Dorian  gently. 

"  No  !  She  was  mad  enough  to  go  to  Maple- 
hurst  yesterday  afternoon  after  being  confined  to 
her  rooms  for  a  whole  fortnight.  I  had  a  tele- 
gram from  her  maid  this  morning  stating  that 
she  was  quite  ill  with  a  fever.  It  is  just  as  I  pre- 
dicted her  rashness  would  terminate,  and  I  doubt 
if,  in  her  delicate  state  of  health — she  is,  you 
know,  to  become  a  mother  in  the  spring — I  doubt 
if  she  will  leave  the  castle  again  for  months.  I 
shall  take  an  early  train  to-morrow  and  go  to  her." 

"I  wish  you  had  gone  to-day,"  said  Mrs.  Ross- 
more,with  a  growing  compassionate  feeling  toward 
the  beautiful  and  unhappy  Lady  Hortense.  "  She 
may  be  dangerously  ill  ;  and  of  course  there  is  no 
one  with  her  but  her  maid." 


THE  GATE  AJAR  315 

"  Anine  can  do  all  for  her  that  is  necessary," 
returned  Mrs.  Ayers  unsympathetically.  "  Besides 
who,"  relapsing  suddenly  into  her  former  state  of 
agitation,"  would  then  have  been  here  to  receive 
his — his — corpse  ?  It  will  be  here  on  the  mid- 
night express ! " 

So  it  happened  that  poor  Hortense  had  looked 
vainly  all  that  afternoon  for  her  mother.  She 
had  fully  expected  that  upon  receiving  the  tele- 
gram Mrs.  Ayers  would  hasten  at  once  to  her 
bedside;  but  the  hours  crept  on  apace  and  there 
was  onjy  Anine  to  soothe  her  pillow,  and  old 
Ephriam  to  come  in  at  intervals  to  replenish  the 
wood  fire.  She  talked  almost  incessantly  of  the 
river  that  day,  asking  her  maid  to  bring  her 
Whittier's  poems  from  the  library  and  read  to  her 
his  verses  about  the  Merrimac,  and  falling  asleep 
just  as  the  sun  set  with  that  poet's  words  upon 
her  lips: 

O  child  of  that  white  crested  mountain,  whose  springs 
Gush  forth  in  the  shade  of  tbe  cliff  eagle's  wings, 
Down  whose  slopes  to  the  lowlands  the  wild  waters  shine, 
Leaping  gray  walls  of  rock,  flashing  through  the  dwarf  pine. 

O  stream  of  the  mountain  !  if  answer  of  thine 
Could  rise  from  the  waters  to  question  of  mine, 
Methinks  through  the  din  of  thy  thronged  banks  a  moan 
Of  sorrow  would  swell  for  the  days  which  have  gone. 

Twilight  fell  over  Maplehurst,  and  the  same 
moon  rose  again  which  yesternight  had  glorified 
the  river  and  the  white  plains  and  hills  beyond  ; 
but  the  chair  at  the  window  was  vacant. 


316  TEE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICS 

About  ten  o'clock  Anine  brought  in  her  pallet, 
thinking  that  as  her  mistress  still  slept  soundly, 
she  herself  would  seek  a  little  rest  j  for  what  with 
her  wakeful  adventures  of  the  previous  night, 
and  anxieties  of  the  day,  she  was  well-nigh  worn 
out  with  fatigue. 

For  Eome  time  she  slumbered  heavily.  She 
was  awakened  by  the  alarm  clock  in  the  hall 
below,  sounding  the  hour  of  midnight.  What 
was  it  that  caused  her  to  direct  her  eyes  with  a 
startled  look  in  them,  toward  the  bed,  and  encoun- 
tering its  white  emptiness,  spring  to  her  feet  with 
a  cry  of  guilty  alarm  ? 

"It  is  as  I  feared,"  she  said,  "my  lady  has 
gone  to  the  river  in  her  sleep  !"  She  ran  to  the 
window  and  looked  down  toward  the  moonlit 
waters.  Sure  enough,  on  the  very  brink  of  the 
terrace  she  espied  a  white-robed  figure  standing, 
motionless  as  a  spectre,  gazing  down  into  the 
rushing  abyss.  The  picture  was  more  weirdly 
terrifying  than  anything  she  had  ever  beheld,  and 
for  a  moment  it  held  her  rooted  to  the  spot. 

Only  a  hair's  breadth  between  the  "  Bride  of 
Infelice  "  and — Eternity  ! 

Collecting  her  dazed  senses  Anine  rushed  from 
the  room,  down  the  darkened  stairs,  out  of  the 
door  which  stood  half  ajar,  and  then  madly  on 
over  the  white  court-yard  toward  that  silent  statu- 
esque figure. 

She  was  within  a  few  yards  of  her  goal — so  near 


THE  GATE  AJAR  317 

it  indeed  that  her  fear-stilled  heart  commenced 
to  beat  again  at  the  glad  thought  that  in  one  mo- 
ment more  her  hand  would  be  outstretched  to 
grasp  the  sleeping  woman's  garments  and  to  pull 
her  back  from  that  awful  threatening  grave.  But 
alas  !  ere  she  had  spanned  the  little  space,  her 
foot  slipped  suddenly  upon  the  hard-frozen  snow, 
and  she  fell  prostrate  forward  with  a  half-sup- 
pressed cry. 

Recovering  her  feet  almost  instantly  she  fixed 
her  eyes  ahead  of  her,  toward  the  spot  where  only 
a  moment  before  she  had  seen  that  figure  stand- 
ing white  and  motionless — fixed  them  there  to 
behold  the  spot  now  tenantless,  and  the  figure  just 
vanishing  over  the  high  terrace  wall ! 

Oh,  the  awful  silence  that  followed  !  Anine 
wondered  in  after  days,  how  she  ever  was  pre- 
vented from  going  stark  mad  in  those  dumb  lost 
moments,  and  by  what  power  she  was  stayed  from 
following  down  the  dark  abysmal  way  that  her 
beautiful,  kind,  and  noble  mistress  had  gone. 

She  remembered,  to  her  dying  day,  the  un- 
earthly shriek,  which  was  followed  .by  a  loud 
splashing  sound,  as  Hortense  struck  the  waters. 
She  remembered  the  picture  of  that  dead  white 
face,  upturned  to  God,  and  the  resistless  hands 
cleaving  the  dark,  foam-crested  waters,  as  all  that 
remained  of  her  beloved  mistress  was  whirled 
away  toward  the  sea  with  the  rapidly-rushing 
current. 


THE  BRIDE  OF  INFELICE 


When  Mrs.  Ayers  reached  Maplehurst  early 
on  the  next  morning,  Anine  met  her  at  the  outer 
gates  with  a  swollen,  tear-stained  face,  and  hands 
frantically  clasping  and  unclasping  themselves. 

"Ob,  Madame!"  cried  the  stricken  girl,  "she 
is  dead  !  my  kind  and  beautiful  mistress  is  dead 
— drowned  yonder  in  those  '  blood-dyed  wa*ers  ! ' 
I  saw  her  float  away  towards  the  sea,  forever ! 
There  are  officers  at  the  castle — they  are  search- 
ing there,  and  they  have  found  a  box  containing 
jewels,  which  they  say  once  belonged  to  a  French 
actress  whom  Sir  Philip  murdered  ;  and  oh, 
Madame,  he  was  never  Sir  Philip  Camden  at  all. 
He  was  only  a  common  Englishman  named  Philip 
Stanton,  and  the  papers  say,  an  accomplished 
criminal.  I  read  the  denouement  myself  last 
night,  but  she,  my  mistress,  never  knew  of  her 
husband's  wickedness.  I  prayed  God  to  save  her 
from  knowing  it,  and  He  has  answered  my 
prayer." 

Tremulous  and  pale,  and  encompassed  by  a 
dumb  incredulity,  Mrs.  Ayers  stood  for  a  moment 
motionless  after  the  girl  had  ceased  speaking, 
then  shaking  herself  free  from  the  hands  that  had 
unconsciously  grasped  hold  of  her  garments,  she 
hurried  across  the  court-yard  and  vanished 
through  the  open  door. 

[THE  END] 


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